A World of Darkness Book I
by Souless666
Summary: He thought no one would ever control his life again. But nothing is ever that simple, and in the world of evil and dark magic, like in wrestling, Never say Never. An Undertaker Story, featuring Mark Calaway, Glen Jacobs aka Kane and others. End of Book I.
1. And so it begins

**Disclamer: I still don't own him, or anyone else for that matter.**

_Before I go on, I would like to think two poeple for convincing me to give another story a try. Chassie666 and Blackstar1979. Blackstar for being the first to review me and Chassie for encourageing me to try another shot at writing, no matter how long it would take. _(_And trust me, it will take time for me to get through this. I really am not a writer. _:) ) _I hope someone enjoys it, even if it is just these two great great writers._

_Now on to the story._

_Oh yeah it's about the Undertaker...like Duh. LOL_

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On the outskirts of Austin TX, sits a lone ranch, miles from the nearest neighbhor. The ranch, a fairly large one, as would be expected in the state known form such, sits under a cool autumn moon. The air, moved with the cool wind of the night, promises a cooler winter then in previous years, is filled with a subdued presence of the normal nightlife. If one where to be standing atop the hill near the main house of the ranch they could not escape the feeling the world is holding it's breath waiting. Waiting for what would be the question. One, the sole individual standing on that very hill can answer.

This man, dressed in clothing dark as the night that envelops him, remains standing motionless, gazing unerringly upon the darkened house below him. His visage, more shrouded in darkness then not, reveals nothing of his mood. Some thought must pass though his mine, for a moment he seems to smirk darkly before his, night veiled, face returns to it's cool demeanor. He remains standing motionless, even when the quiet night is rent with the loud sound of breaking wood, followed closely by the shattering of glass. The lone figure's head raises a fraction when the air is filled with one last sound. It is quick and cut off almost as it appears. The man shakes his head then castes his gaze to the front door of the building as several shadows break away and speed in his direction.

The three large forms come to a stop feet from where the lone man stands and drop to their knees. The being, with it's massive head bowed brings a cloth wrapped object up to the one he kneels before. The all remain in this tableau for several seconds as the man gazes on the object presented to him. Such time passes that the three creatures begin to shudder slightly, as if overcome with nervousness. They cringe even lower as the dark man speaks.

"I...heard…something." His voice is low and cold, giving one the image of a cold hell, but this hell would not bear the good fruit that many would envision. The sound of his voice gives promise of a hell where even the devil would fear to venture. "I…said...the living first. Then…the prize." He moves his glance from the object in the creature's hand to the creature, itself. "Why…did I hear…something other…then what I…commanded?"

No sound escapes the dark figures before this man. No sound had since they came to kneel before him and he seems to not take note of this as he continues to speak to the cowering creatures. "I…gave you…life. Was my…work…faulty?" Again that dark smirk lifts the edges of his mouth as glove encased hands shoot forth sending a bright red blast of energy at the two creatures flanking the one with the object of the man's interest. Neither creature issues a sound, as both burst into motes of light that fade as fast as they came into existence. The dark man does not even waste time reveling in his handiwork as he turns to the, now, trembling creature before him.

"Ah…yes…you have…done…well." Seeing this, as if he had just not, removed its companions from the world, the man takes the wrapped object into his hands. His eyes seem to light with an evil glow for but a moment, and then he, once more, looks upon his cringing servant and nods. "Yes…very well…indeed." With that he waves a hand at the creature and it falls dead at his feet, eyes still open and gazing in fear upon him, before fading away, till it is as if the creature never existed.

With one last glance to the building below, the dark man that, once again, stands alone on the hill overlooking the lone ranch fades, himself, from sight leaving the world to shiver from the coming winter and the evil that will be born from this the actions of this night.

RING…RING…RING… 

The quiet of a hotel room in Secaucus, New Jersey is disturbed with the sound of a cell phone and then the gruff and angered voice of a sleepy man.

"WHAT THE HELL! WHAT ASSHOLE WOULD BE CALLING AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT!" Another voice, not as angry, or as loud pipes in.

"If you answer it, instead of yelling at it, you might find out, and I, might, be able to get back to sleep." With the abrupt illumination of the room from the bed stand light, the other voice growls annoyed as the large bald man dives under the covers to escaped intrusion. "I hate you, you know that?"

"Yeah what else is new."? This said by the large dark haired man who, is now, grabbing the newly ringing cell-phone. "This had better be good or I'm…. WHAT…" There is silence for so long the other man in the room ventures out from under his covers to find a look on his companion's that sends chills down his spine. "What…what's wrong?"

The other man, still clutching the phone to his ear, though the line has long since been disconnected, just stares off into space. His skin, even paler then his normal pallor, seems almost translucent. The other man rises from his bed to sit next to his friend, removing the phone from his grip looking him in the eyes.

"Mark, what's wrong? Come on bro tell me."

Mark Calaway, the man known to millions as the wrestler the Undertaker, turns to his half brother, Glen, known far and wide as Kane. His eyes deader then normal as the words escape his lips, words that leave his brother in the same state of shock as Mark himself.

"Sara and the kids have been killed….and….someone…someone stole the Urn."


	2. Grief: Past, Present

**Disclaimer: Hey what did I say? I don't own them. :D**

** A/N: Well I guess I had another chapter in me, sooner then I thought. I want to thank Isil for being my first reviewer. Thanks for the kind words.**

**If anyone finds issues with spelling and grammar please let me know. I really am not a writer and I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. lol so any imput in that area would be loads of help.**

** Anyway, on with the next chapter.**

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In the bowels of the Continental Airlines Arena a group of WWE wrestles are busy preparing for the night's show. Some lounge about on benches, reading, or talking among themselves. Little of the talk has to do with what they are about to do in a few hours. It is a time to relax before they face the roar of a filled arena of fans. Every so often, one or another of the men in the room glances to an unclaimed locker bearing a stickered label reading "KANE".

"Hey anyone see Kane?" This from a young African American sporting a nice neat set of cornrows along his scalp, as he glances to the group of men playing cards to his left. One of the men, an older blond haired man, looks up from his hand shaking his head. "No, not since last night after the show at the bar." The man speaks with a distinct Irish accent. "Last he said he was heading to bed before Taker headed to the room. Something about, how Taker would watch TV for an hour before calling Sara and going to bed. Would keep the poor guy up for hours before he could fall asleep." He chuckles a bit before laying his cards down grinning at the man across from him. "Why do you ask?" The older man looks up again curiously. "Well he's got the first match and I have not seen him all day, not in the gym or practicing the match in the ring. Not much time before the show goes on, and Kane's not the kind to go into a match cold, you know that."

With these words both man look to the locker with furrowed brows, even drawing the attention of others close enough to hear some of the words that had passed between them. "You think something's wrong?" This coming from, a short partially balding, Hispanic man. The look of concern that flashes over his face makes the others in the room start to look to each other as more concern seems to grip the entire room as they all think back to anther day in another state where one of their number had a fatale reasons for not showing. No one could bring them self to even speak, afraid of what to say, seeing the fear in the man's eyes and the cold fear that, now, grips each of their hearts. Could they stand another loss?

Just as the tension seem as it would overwhelm them all, the door bursts open and young man with long dark hair pulled into a tight pony tail rushes into the room. "Have you guys heard?!?" His outburst seems to break the spell in the room as some of the men that had been standing seem to deflate and collapsing onto nearby benches, as other slow turn, thinking themselves ready for the news they all feel they are braced for. What the young man says next proves them all wrong.

"Mark's wife was killed last night…Someone Murdered Sara..." he seems to take a moment, as if the next bombshell is hard, for him to vocalize, "They also killed his daughters…" It is those words, that seem to seep into the young man's brain for he just seems to deflate before their eyes as he slides slowly to the floor with his head in his hands. The room is silent for a very long time. What do you say, after hearing something as horrific as the news, someone has committed the ultimate sin and many eyes. To take the life of a child is unforgivable to many of these men of families they so rarely get to see.

"How…how do you know about this Matt?" The young African American finally finds his voice enough to ask, though it is horse with held back emotions. The other young man, shaking his head looks up with unshed tears brimming in his dark eyes, "I was near some crates talking to Jeff on my cell. Wanted to…to have some privacy so I guess the bosses talking did not see me," he swallows, as the act of speaking now, is about the hardest thing he has ever had to do, "They…sai…said someone broke in.…they just killed them…that's all I heard before they moved on." He starts to shudder with pent-up rage or sadness, it is hard to tell, but is clear he is not the only one in the room deeply affected by the news. As they all just stands about, not even sure what to do next, the door opens slowly and tall African American stands in the doorway, the look on his face is a mirror of those in the room. "Vince has called a meeting in catering." It is all he says, it seems to be all he can bring himself to say as she turns about and leaves.

It takes the gathered men in the looker room a bit to find the will to move to the door and depart to a meeting they all dread. They arrive in the open area where, normally the men and women that work for the WWE would take time to relax and eat while waiting their turn in the ring, or the backstage crew who work hard to produce the shows that are intended to entertain thousands of fans. But, at this moment, the usual backstage hum and bustle is nowhere to be seen. The atmosphere is about as subdued as they have ever been for this company. Here and there the muted silence is broken with the sob from one of the female workers, or a male equivalent. The most heart rending is the open emotion from the Hispanic man sitting among friends who try to comfort him. His open grief is like exposing a barely healed wound to them all. A loss is a loss, for the wrestling community. Be they a wrestler, or the family of one it is felt by all.

Gazing over this scene is a group of people who seem to be as affected as those men and women before them. There is a young woman with long dark auburn hair, who can barely hid the tears that glisten in her eyes. An older man, with short-cropped hair, that bears a striking resemblance to the overwhelmed young woman. Near the young woman stands a large man with a very prominent nose and very muscular build that is hardly hidden by the suite he wears. He attempts to soothe the young lady, as best he can, but it seems a failing battle. He looks up to the older gentleman as he clears his voice to gain the attention of those in attendance.

"I see most of you have already heard," he stops for a moment as if to collect his thoughts, "for those that have not, I am sorry to have to let you know, that last night Mark's wife and children were murder in their home. Who did it and why, I don't know. Neither does Mark, who is headed to Austin right now." He sighs, as he had to say all that as fast as he could or he was not sure he would have been able to, without some emotional showing and he knew, at this point, he has to be strong for his employees. He clears his voice one more and holds up his hand to forestall any questions as he goes one. "Glen has gone with Mark, he will let me know what they find out, once they get to Austin. Tell then there is nothing to do, but carry on." He was ready for the resentful looks some of the older wrestlers shoot him, but he knows as well as he, that he is right this time, even though it does not sit well with them. Business is business and they will have thousands of paying fans in the seats of the arena in a couple of hours. "I ask you all, to do your best tonight. I know it will be hard, but I am sure you all have it in you." He makes a point of not looking to the emotional man off with his friends. "Chavo," The man looks up, "I'm canceling your match tonight, why don't you and Chris head back to the hotel." It was clear to all it was not a suggestion, but a clear order to both men. They nod, stand and leave quickly from the meeting. The look of approval he now gets from the seated wrestlers, have over taken the looks of disapproval. "OK every. We have a show in 2 hours. Go get ready."

The departure form the meeting is slow and subdued, as has been the mood of the whole night since the new had broken. The older man looks back to the younger man and the woman. "We might be without Mark for a weeks, or more. Work around him. I gave Glen a few days, to make sure Mark will be ok, then he will back to work…" he stops talking when he can tell the young woman has something to say, her voice suppressing the strong emotions underlying it. "I really had nothing going for Glen at the moment. Let him stay with Mark for a while dad. You know how he can get…I…" She looks up to the man holding her, and then back to the older man, "I'll feel better if he is there. Is that ok dad?" The, almost, pleading look in her eyes, gives the man no other choice. "Ok, call him and tell him to take his time, till he is sure Mark can he left alone." With that the man, known as Vince McMahon kisses his daughter on the cheek, something he would not normally do in public, as it might compromise her position of authority, but it is clear she is in need of such assurances from her father at this moment. She was always very close to Mark, almost from the point he entered the company. And he had always seemed to be a protector of her, acting like a giant surrogate father at times. This occurrence was hitting her hard, cause it was hitting him hard.

"Paul, look after her for me. I have to head back to Stanford." He says this to the man holding his daughter. "Sure Vince," says the man know to the fans as HHH, or Hunter. "Just let us know what's up as soon as you can. This will not be great on the boy's moral…not after…well you know." They both avoid saying the name, though they both are thinking of the same person. With that Vince turns heads to the parking lot and his limo while Stephanie McMahon-Lavesque and her husband head to the back to try and produce a show with 30 grieving wrestlers.


	3. Revelations: Good, Bad

**Disclaimer : Not mine. Well save the bad guy, I own him.  
**

_Well I would first, like to appoligize to everyone that liked the first two chapters of this story for it taking as long as it did to get this part up. But, I am really not as good or as prolific as others out there. I would sugggest, that if you have the time, check out stories from Blackstar1979 if you get a chance, or Chessie666 or jerseyrose. These are really great writers. I also, have been trying to figure out how to write this, with what happened in it to Taker's family, considering recent events. I was finaly able to get it done. Hopefully now I am over that hump, I can really get more chapters out a bit faster then I have._

_I would also like to thank all those that have read the story. Reviews or no, knowing there are ppl that took the time to stop and read it, make me happy. And a big thanks to those that did review. :D  
_

_Anyway, long winded stuff out of the way, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.  
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How do you measure the pain in the heart of a man that has lost all that ever mattered to him? Where do your find the tool to quantify the unquantifiable?

At this very moment the man known as Glenn Jacobs wishes greatly there was such a tool, something to allow him to understanding the tragedy that has befallen his brother. He glances over to the shell of a man that stands stone still at the large bay windows that dominate the far wall. He notes, abstractly, that his brother had been standing like that for the last few hours since they had arrived at the home his brother had once called, his Shangri-La. He had just walked in, stood silently in the middle of the grand entranceway, not even looking about, just standing, as if he was waiting for something, anything, to happen. And when whatever it was he was waiting for did not occur, he walked into the large living room, to the window and had not moved, or said, anything since.

Glen continues to sit on the large overstuffed sofa staring at his brother's, board straight, back, remembering another time he saw his brother do the same thing and it makes him shudder. Finally he shakes his head banishing the memory to the recesses of his mind where such memories should stay and never seek the light of realization. He finally grunts and lifts his great bulk from the comfort of the sofa and strides purposefully to stand behind his brother. Taking a moment to watch the older man's shoulders rises and fall slowly with his breathing he narrows his eyes with determination and lays a large hand on the other's broad shoulders. Speaking softly as the feels his brother tense up.

"Mark, sorry, but you got to come back and deal with all this."

He is nearly unmanned when the first sound he has heard from his brother since entering the house is a drawn in sobbing breath. He thanks his natural reflexes that allow him to react. For if he had not quickly caught his brother about the torso he would have collapsed to the floor, when his body seem to give way to the emotional weight that had been pressing down him, more heavy then the largest man he has ever lifted. Glenn slowly lowers them both to the floor as his brother, finally, gives vent to the grief that, he knew, had enshrouded his brother, since he had received the phone call of the prior day. Glenn gently rocks the immense body of his brother, as he feels the wave and wave of wracking sobs fill the room, and causes his older brother's body to shudder violently.

They hold this tableau for nearly 20 minutes before Glenn can sense the surcease of Mark's weeping and his body finally settling down. He only relinquishes his hold on the large man, when he feels him push away from his hold, to stand up slowly. Glenn slightly grimaces in sympathy when he hears the slight creaking of his brother's joints, wincing when he, himself, stands and experiences the same pain from years of abuse on his body from wrestling. He silently watches as Mark walks away from him to the entranceway once more, following only when he hears the front door opening, wondering what his brother is doing. Cocking his head slightly, reminiscent of his early days under the mask, when his ability to communicate was non-existent, he walks to the front door in time to see Mark heading off to the right out to a small corral where he has seen his brother allow some of the horses to roam and where his oldest girl would ride her pony in the sight of her parents.

"Now where is he going?" Ponders the tall near bald man, as he steps off the ranch porch to follow quickly after his brother, deep concern spurring him forward. As he tries to catch up with the older man, he frowns as she watches him climb a small hill that he had noticed many times before, and had thought would be a nice place to stand if one wanted to get a good look over the immense ranch. Finally catching up to Mark, Glenn stops and looks back to the ranch, as he notes his brother is doing the same, wondering what he hopes to see. Is he trying to remember a time when the place he called home once rang with the laugher and light of his lost family? One look back to his brother erases all such thought. Something is bothering Mark, as his features show a look of utter rage and something else he, Glenn, would prefer not to recognize.

"He stood here." The sudden words catch Glenn by surprise. These, the first words he has heard from his brother are not what he had expected. "Who?" He asks, somewhat confused by what Mark had just said.

"The fiend, that has done this to me." Mark moves his gaze to his younger bother for a moment then back to gaze back down to the buildings that were, once, so important to him. He, knows what he must look like to Glenn, he knows the look in his eyes and he wants to spare Glenn the sight, that must haunt his younger brother day in and day out. His voice drops, against his will, to the more menacing deep drawl that speaks of another part of him; a part he had hoped was finally locked away for all time. "The demon in human guise," it is almost as if he is fighting with himself as his voice, once more, climbs back to a tone that does not send chills down his brother's spine, "the one that found the need to kill my heart, while taking my soul." Mark lowers his gaze letting his eyes trace along the fertile ground at his feet, till they settle on an area that bares faint indentations. "His tools kneeled there, before he removed them from existence…" He looks up as Glenn interrupts him.

"Mark you are making no sense, what are you talking about, who are you talking about?" Glenn hates to sound so short with his grieving brother, but he is starting to truly worry him. "Look, lets just head ba...acckk!" His words are cut off as his brother suddenly grabs him by the throat, with one hand, squeezing till he can feel his oxygen being cut off. Brother or no, lost family or no, he will not be strangled by anyone, let alone the man that spent a good part of his adult life tormenting him off and on, for fun. With effort, Glenn brings up his left hand to clamp hard about the throat of his brother, as he does so, he makes eye contact with Mark and freezes, his grip falling loss as he realizes, finally, that even though the hands about his throat may belong to his brother, the glassy look in Mark's gray-green eyes give evidence that he is not in control of his actions.

Just as Glenn comes to this realization, Mark blinks once, shakes his head, looking down at Glenn with his own hands wrapped about his brother's throat. It takes him a moment for the situation to truly sink in and he releases the younger man just as he was about to black out from lack of air. "Glenn?" The words, a bit slurred, come to Glenn as tone of a confused child, "Why was I choking you?" he continues to speak in that small boy tone, then a frown replaces the confused and lost look in the older mans eyes, "It's started. We have to get to Paul before it's too late." The mention of his hated father, finally helps to draw a picture for Glenn Jacobs, as he stands shakily from where he had fallen, once Mark had released him. "The Urn." Said as a statement, not a question, the man, many know as Kane, now looks about himself, this time, he looks for things most would not see. And so the previous days occurrences are there for him, as if they were happening as they stand there. Swallowing deeply, he says nothing to his brother, just looks back to him, as he rubs at his bruised neck. "He, whoever he is, may think they have the upper hand, but we will surprise him. You're free, and you will stay that way Bro; I promise."

As those words are spoken, the man called the Undertaker, looks back to the buildings below, this time with eyes, once more, filled with sadness and grief. "It means so little without them. Freedom is just a word." He looks back to his brother, as he lays a large comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone bro. You'll never be alone, they will always be with you, you of all people should know that."

For the first time in days Mark Calaway smiles. It is a bitter sweet smile, but it is a sign to his brother that he reached him, and that there is still hope for the man he had come to accept as family, and not an enemy. "Well, lets get a move on. My father awaits."

If only Glenn Jacobs know how correct his words were, for miles away in the state of Alabama, in a small house, the man many know as Paul Bearer or Percy Pringle, sits in a large, stuffed, high-backed chair, in a library lined with ancient tombs and manuscripts. He is dressed in a comfortable looking smoking jack of deep purple and black trim. In one hand he holds a drinking goblet of red wine, in the other a glowing blue orb, in who's depth are depicted the two men standing on a hill. "Well, well, well. I was wondering how long you two would take to decide to come see the old fat man. He sets the glob down on a deep purple felt cloth and stands patting his much reduced gut. "Well, maybe not fat anymore. Grinning he looks over to a chair set in the shadows of a corner of the room. "Don't you agree my friend?" The rustling of soft clothing is heard as the person there that seems to be enshrouded by the deep shadow chuckles low. "How…soon…. will my prize…. arrive?" The voice is cool, low, and still evokes a cold lifeless hell.

Paul smiles, his most evil, conniving smile. "Soon. Yesss, very soon, you shall posses what you desire, and I will do the same." He glances off to the side, at the golden object set upon a new pedestal. "Soon we will both get what we have desired for far to long."

The room is filled with a laughter tinged with evil an evil that will engulf the world.


	4. Quiet Peace Screaming Madness

**Disclaimer: **_Still don't own them._

_Well here is another chapter. I really hope everyone is enjoying the story. I hope I'm not going too slow for everyone, just putting it out there as it comes to me and getting to the action parts will start I promise. Oh and don't worry, I know what is going on, the plots aready worked out in my head, it's just getting it down on the computer and struggling with trying to put words to the thing that is in my head so others can understand it, is the hard part.  
_

**Warning: **_The very end of this chapter can be distrubing to some. Please take note_

_Anyway, enjoy. _

* * *

The skies above Birmingham International airport are clear and blue. It is a day many would wish to accompany a trip to the historic state of Alabama. Whether it be a businessman or woman, set for a big meeting, a family on vacation to visit historic sites or a son  
returning home to get in touch with his roots; this is the day to touch down. 

From the windows of the plane young children and adults gaze with fascination at the land below. Their future spread out before them clear as the sky above, as far as they are concerned. Global Warming, terrorist threats in other lands, none of these things invade this moment of wonder. But not all, within the plane, are filled with the wonder and fascination of life and the world below them. Not all see the future as open and filled with promise. Two men sit side by side lost in their own thoughts. Neither glances out the window, just inches from them. Yes, they have seen this sight many times, and most of those times they would be busy readying for the return to the sweet touch of earth, but this time is not even that normal for either man.

The broader of the two, sighs softly and risks a sly glance to his silent companion. He would give anything to know what the morose man beside him was thinking, but for the last 2 hours of their flight together, Mark Calaway had said not a word to his, still, worried brother; and this was finally wearing on his younger brother's nerves. He knew he had to get Mark to say something and soon, before they got to Paul's. The last thing Glenn Jacobs wanted to do was be the spokesman for the duo.

Glenn hated his father, with a passion, most, usually reserved for the most evil beings in history; a Hitler, or Stalin. Why he lets such hate consume him beyond rational thought, not even he can answer. It is not like Paul had treated him worse then he had, at times, Mark; Paul Bearer was an equal opportunity user. The difference might have been that Mark was not Paul's son. Paul would, at times, show Glenn such affection and concern, that he would fall for his fathers machinations, but, in the long run, it always turned out the same and he was left, once more, alone and hurt.

And there, was the truth of the matter. Glenn hated his father, cause he knew he was defenseless against him. It takes so little for the older man to wrap the hurt and lonely man that Glenn knows himself to be, around his chubby finger. He looks, once more, towards his brooding brother, thinking on how many times Paul has pitted the two large brothers against each other. And in the end, it was Mark and Glenn, himself, that paid the price for allowing the evil being that Paul is, into their lives and heads. And now, if things stayed the way they are, he would have to be the one to present their concern and dilemma to the vile man, when Glenn would prefer nothing more, then to wrap his massive hands about the smaller man's neck and choke him till his bulbous body stopped quivering for all time. The thought brings a slight smirk to near bald man's face.

"Killing him will get us no place, you know that right?" Glenn was yanked out of his murderous revelry by the unexpected sound of his bother's voice. Glancing down at his feet, like a kid just caught with his hands in the cookie jar, and chocolate covering his face, Glen can not help the secret smile that, finally, his brother has torn himself from his self imposed vow of silence. Hoping to continue the trend he tries to draw his brother out further.

"Hey, I can dream can't I? "He glances up his eyes sparkling with a, hoped for, sincere humor, "besides not even my hands are big enough to get all the way around his neck." The large man's heart leaps for joy as he notes the crinkling on the edges of his older brother's eyes, as the rare grin breaks the, normally, stoic visage he had cultivated for decades. "You have not seen Paul in a while have you?" Glenn, frowns, wondering why Mark would ask such a dumb question, knowing Glenn makes a point of not even acknowledging his father exists. Mark chuckles slightly now, he, himself, finding the dwelling of the past weeks events are starting to drag him down to a place he truly wishes to never to see again. So, he decides, he will allow his brother to help him move away from his own dark thoughts. "Lets just say he's a lesser man these days." Mark shakes his head at his own, unintended, pun considering Glenn's outlook on his father.

He glances up, noting the seatbelt sign and begins to lock in. "Don't worry Glen, I'll do the talking. It'll save me from having to mediate between the two of you," looking over and winking, " like always." Glenn, huffs once, while locking in his seatbelt. "I'll be good this once. But you will have to look after me afterwards." Mark looks slightly confused at his brother's words, grunting when his younger brother punches him in the arm finishing with, "Hey you want me to go cold turkey on going at my father, the withdrawal will be killer." Mark cannot help the booming laughter that erupts at his brother's words. This draws the attention of many of the other passengers, but neither man cares, as they both know this is the first sign that Mark might be coming out the other side of his depression.

Not long after the two Brothers of Destruction are sitting side by side, in a rental car speeding off down route 20. It has been, roughly, 30 minutes since they left Birmingham and Glenn is wondering if he had created a monster. Mark had not stopped talking since taking the driver's seat. From what they are going to say to Paul, and who might have taken the Urn, to what they will say to Vince if, it turns out, neither of the brothers will be able to get back to work as soon as he wanted them to. That was a cause of concern Glenn had to admit. Vince could be, at times, understanding about family tragedies; to a point. Most times, he expected grieving talent, to be back to work within a week or less. Sooner, if a Pay Per view was up. The exceptions were if the crisis occurred a day or so before. Glenn, remembers clearly Mark in the ring not long after his adoptive father passed away. Though, with Mark, work tended to be his outlet for grief. Still Glenn knew they had to deal with the loss of the Urn and the person responsible for Sara and the kids' deaths, as quickly as possible, for all concerned.

"…On page 130 I think…Glenn are you paying attention?" Mark had finally realized Glen had not said a word in the last few minutes and glanced over to his younger brother, thinking something might be wrong. The sheepish look on the other man's face shows that he, in fact, was not paying attention to one word he had said. "Boy, no wonder you don't have any girl friends." Taken aback by the statement the younger wrestler grumbles, crosses his arms over his massive chest and deliberately pouts. "Says you. I have a few ladies friends, despite what other think." A quick gleam lights up his mismatched powder blue eyes as he says, "Or are you saying you want to date me?"

The utter look of shock that over comes the, normally, emotionless features of his brother's face is priceless to the younger man as he turns to the passenger side window to hid the wide grin on his face. Rarely does anyone get one in on the one called the Deadman. This was a moment to cherish. What comes next, though, has Glen choking for air, as Mark rejoins, completely deadpanned, "Only if you wear that black number you wore at last years Halloween party." Once Glen can breath and talk at the same time, all he can say is, "I hate you sooo much."

The ride continues on, with this easy camaraderie that seems to be building between the two men. Both take some time to muse on how they do seem to be feeling very easy being around each other, at this very trying time. They, both, know it should not be this way, it never has. Not in all the years since they re-discovered each other; thanks to Paul Bearer, have they felt this comfortable around each other. It gives the man called the Undertaker in the wrestling world, some food for thought. After all is said and done, and the Urn is back in it's rightful place, the one who stole it, a rotting corpse, he, Mark, will see about finally shoring up the bridge with his brother, he burnt down so many years ago.

Glen, for his own part, also is thinking about his relationship with his, of time, estranged brother. He will never be able to forget what his brother did when they were both children, and the things he and his brother have done to each other since. Still, much time has passed and he is so vary tired of being alone. In time, he muses, Mark will have to start looking to dating and moving on from his loss of Sara and the kids. Who else, to ease the large, threatening, humorless, man back into the dating scene, then his younger brother. After all, the brooding, dangerous, psychotic Kane is, in reality, something of a Casanova, if he does say so himself. And he will, he admits to himself, quiet often and to whomever will listen.

Another 2 hours have passed when Glenn, who has now taken the wheel, pulls into the parking lot of a road side bar and diner. Mark, who had been dozing for the last 15 minutes blinks awake and looks about.

"Why we stopping?" he asks with a slight confused frown on his face. Glenn smirks as moves to leave the car. "Don't know about you, but I prefer to pee in a bathroom and not on whatever bush presents itself. Mark just chuckles as he removes his seatbelt and exits the car. Taking a moment to easy the cramping of his long legs and back he watches his younger brother do the same then head to the front door of he establishment, thinking about the jokes all the boys in the locker room make, when he allows them, on Glen's prudishness on certain things. He rushes to catch up with his brother, laying an arm over his shoulder saying, "Hey, someone has to water them don't they?" He laughs out right, at the rolling of the other man's eyes as he shoots back at him. "How I miss the Lord of Darkness. At least he did not find pleasure in teasing me all the time." Glen barely holds back the snicker as Mark, feigning hurt says, "But I have to tease you. I have a rep to protect." Yeah, says Glen, "The rep of the American Asshole."

Both men enter the building smiling to each other and are greeted by a older woman, likely in her 40s, dressed in a waitress's outfit of powder blue and white. "Good evening boys, you just made it, we close in about an hour. Take a seat and I'll bring over the menus." The smile she sends the two brothers way makes the light mood they are in, even more pleasant and they both make a mental note to leave her something extra as a tip.

Glen heads off to the men's room as Mark takes a both near the back of the diner. Smiling up to the waitress as she comes over, he asks her for two cups of coffee, as he looks over the menu, deciding to wait for Glen's return before ordering. Nodding to the large man as he returns from the john, Mark glances about the small diner as his brother decides what he wants to order. The dinner, a pleasing little place, with a small bar-like setup off to the side, is nearly empty; giving evidence to the waitress's words that closing time is close. He notes the two men seated at the counter, both clearly truckers, who's rigs Mark, now sees, parked across the road. Their conversation drifts to Mark's ears as he hears one talk about how this is his last haul and that he and Belinda, his wife, are planning on traveling the US visiting their children and other relatives they have not seen for years. Feeling like a voyeur, he moves his attention to the further part of the diner and a both with a family just sitting down to order. His heart catches in his throat as he watches the husband and his wife fuss over their two young children, a boy and girl. He cannot stop the memories of how him and Sara would have to do the same with the girls, whenever they took them out for a treat of dinning out. Closing his eyes and lowering his head, he tries desperately to choke back the heart-wrenching sob that is aching to get out. Glen somehow sense there is something amiss with his brother and sets his menu down, shaking his head to the waitress as she comes over, thinking they are ready to order. She glances to make and nods, as if she can feel the heartache coming off this large man, like a wave of physical force.

"Mark, I'm here. No matter what, I will always be here." It's all the younger man can think to say. All, he hopes, needs be said. Sighing in relief and releasing the breath he did not know he was holding in, Glen smiles softly to his brother as he looks up and places his large hand over Glen's. "I know and thank you." Mark stand, shaking his head as Glen starts to rise as well. "It's ok, I just need to go to the john for sec." Glen sits and nods as Mark walks off, telling him what to order him, so they can eat and get back on the road.

Glenn places their orders as the waitress returns to him, at a wave from the large man. He then, himself, takes the time to glance back to the family, as they begin eating the food they had order. His attention is then drawn to a young couple that had come in while Glen was dealing with Mark. He clearly hears their conversation, even though they are trying to keep it between themselves. Shaking his head the massive man sits back in his seat, thinking about how these two, a young girl no older then 17 and her, obvious, boy friend, looking to be a year or two older, talk about how they will make it big in music, despite what their parents and others have said. It's clear the two have run away together, and Glen hopes their future turns out better then it looks to him.

Just then both Mark and the food arrive. Mark, seeming, in a much better mood, dives into his burger and salad, while Glen makes in roads into his meat loaf. For a second Mark stops eating and Glen looks up, seeing his brother, fork inches away from his mouth holding stock still. Just as Glen is about to ask him what is wrong his vision blurs and he wonders to himself who is screaming. When his vision comes back into focus, what greets him nearly drives him insane. He is standing in the middle of the diner. The sun has long since set, the diner is a dark, burned, ruin and he is holding the chard head of the nice old waitress. Glen wants to scream. Glen wants this to be a dream, a nightmare, anything, just not real. But the hand that lands on his shoulder is real. The sight of his brother, covered from head to toe in blood, as he is turned towards him, is real. Glen does not want to see anymore. He does not want to know what other horrors inhabit the immediate world with him. He just walks, zombie-like, behind his brother, as he urges him to follow. They climb back into their car, throw it into gear and speed off down the road. At some point Glen had dropped the old woman's head, as he sits staring at his massive singed hands. Nothing is said. Nothing needs or wants to be said. They both know, they have to get to Paul. Something is very wrong and if they don't find out what, they know their very souls will be lost and what that will lead to, scares the two men, known as the Brothers of Destruction.

"Now was that nice?" Ask Paul Bearer of his present company. "Showing off will do you no good, and might get them in trouble." He turns his head from the globe to look over to the shadowed corner. "They…are…. taking to…long." Paul sighs, another impatient fool that has no idea what subtlety and true precise machinations really are. "Now…they…will…speed here…faster." Paul nods humoring the fool. "I…have…waited…long enough….to…see my plans….fulfilled."

Paul nods smiling his insincere smile. "And you shall see them fulfilled." He laughs, "Ooooh Yesss, you shall in deed."


	5. Preperations Unprepared

**Disclaimer: **Me No own, expect what I do own.

A/N:_ Sorry this took so long, but I warned ya. ;) I know writing was going to be hard for me, but wow. Knowing what you want to say, and then trying to put them down is hard. LOL_

_Well I want to thank all those that made it to chapter 4. Knowing you liked, or were intrigued enough to read that far, is much appreaciated. Oh and once more, I apologize if the action is not coming as fast as in normal stories. I'm just putting it down as it comes, the action just does not seem to be right just yet. But be assured it will come. LOL_

_ Anyway, on with the story. Enjoy._

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In a small county in Salem Alabama, there is a small neighborhood of modest houses. A neighborhood made up of working families of many diverse backgrounds and makeup. There's the local grocer, a married couple of Actuaries, the family of an indie car driver. Not to mention the local sheriff, the Investment broker and the TV actor. And then there is the house, down the short drive off of Main Street; the house where the ex-wrestler live.

It is a minor source of pride in the community that someone of his notoriety lives among them. Not even the TV star is as well known in the area as this man. See this is the south and the south has not forgotten the heritage that wrestling has with the country. And to that the generous nature of the man that lives in the house. Never has he turned away a child on Halloween looking for candy. Any call to charity for a local need will see him first to give money and time. He is the most respected man in their community and he is well into a plan that will plunge the world into darkness and evil.

"How…. much…. longer must we…. wait?" The self-assured tone of the dark enshrouded man that had taken, almost, permanent residence in the dark corner of Paul Bearer's library seemed to have lost a bit of its certainty, as the tone has become a bit strained and tense.

"Patience my dear associate." Says Bearer, with an, almost, condescending tone, "They will be here in time. Our time would best be spent setting up for them." Bearer moves about his library, pulling books from several shelves as he talks. "Unlike Undertaker…oh yes…Mark…my dear son, will not be so easy to contain." As he speaks the one time manager of the Man from the Darkside, retrieves a small silver bowl. Setting it down among several other curious objects. One of which would draw the attention of any wrestling fan; a miniature replica of the mask that Glenn Jacobs once was forced to wear, in order to hide his features from the world.

"What…. are…. you up…to?" There is a level of grudging curiosity to the other room's occupant's voice as his head moves slightly with the movements of the once rotund man's journey in the library. He takes note of the small mask, and the silver bowl, the latter's gothic designs that decorate the outer rim are of singular significance to him.

"You…. are…more skilled and…knowledgeable…. then…. I had…a first…been lead to…. believe." Nodding to the bowl, "How…came…you by that…particular…object, and…why…are you still…. breathing?" The question is not a threat. It is clear that the shadow-enshrouded man is interested in the answer.

"Oh that," says Bearer as he adds one more thing to the clutter on the table, before sitting in the high-backed chair that, at the moment, dominates the room, "Let us just say, I was able to make a deal for it. It cost me a bit, but in the long run, it will always be worth it." The slight chuckled from his companion causes him to lift his eyes to the corner that has been his home, it would seem, since he first came to Bearer's home with the proposal. "Something amuses you?"

"Why…no. Not…in…the way you…. think." Now his voice holds that hint of amused condescension, "I…just…found the need to…. chuckle. Forgive…. me." The slight movement in the shadows makes clear he has inclined his head to the table. "Please…do…not…let me…. detain…you…from your…endeavors." Paul smirks slightly as he proceeds to read a large tome, whose bindings appear to be made of a very dry white-dyed leather and bone.

"Mark we have to talk about what happened back there." Glen could no longer stand the silence that had been his and his brother's companion since they left the diner. Then again what can you say, when you find that, you had zone out and slaughter a whole restaurant of people? Mark's normal taciturn and brooding silence was even more oppressive then ever, but that was now what was bothering him. That Glen could have dealt with, as usual, but it was not Mark that was the problem this time. This time it was he, himself, that was causing his anxiety. Glen had, if all evidence could be believed, burned that diner to the ground

This was not him, not now, not after so long having purged himself of the anger and rage that had been apart of his life and very being for most of his childhood since the fire; and to do such an act, without knowing. This was something they were expecting might occur with his brother now that someone had the Urn. He was not like Mark, he had not given his soul over to the Darkside for…well, whatever reason lead his older brother to make such a dread decision. He thinks about that. Mark had never spoken of why he had willingly given himself over to the darkness. Sometimes Glen wonders if it was due to the fire, and then other times he has this sinking feeling that Mark had other reasons for all his actions from their childhood. Glen had come to the conclusion that he would never know the full story of the fire, or Mark's life prior to being adopted by the Calaways. He casts another glance to his brother, who had yet to answer his statement.

"MARK! STOP THE CAR!"

The suddenness of the stop makes Glen happy he was wearing his seatbelt. He is also glad they were on a road that had been devoid of other traffic for the last 10 minutes, of his stunt would have ended them both in the hospital; if they were lucky.

"GLEN!" Bellows his brother from the driver's seat, "ARE YOU INSANE? WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?" Mark was more scared then he wanted to admit from Glen's outburst. What scared him, he could not say, but since the diner he had been on edge. The memory of the diner, the bodies, he made sure Glen did not see, will be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. Maybe it was Glen that scared him. Not his brother, perse, but what the occurrence at the diner might indicate. The Urn does not control Glen. Glen, as far as Mark knows, is a normal human being, save for his pyrokinesis. But that is not magic. Such abilities do occur naturally in man. What Mark is, and does, that is what is not natural. So what happened to Glen? Why did he burn that place to the ground and all in it; and why did it appear that Glen had no idea he was doing it? Mark, himself, awoke still sitting in the booth of the diner, fork in hand and the first thing he saw, was his younger brother, standing in the middle of the diner hands holding the smoking head of the waitress, the diner patrons and employees charred husks all about him. Soon the stench of blood reaches his nostrils and he realizes he is nearly covered in blood. At that moment he does not even care who's blood he is drenched in, he just wants out of that place, away with his brother, time to think, time to figure out, how both brothers could have murdered innocents and not know they were doing it.

"I'm waiting Glen." Mark's tone is much calmer as he twists in his seat to look full on his brother. "Why did you nearly get us killed?" Glen sighs raising his miss-matched eyes to Mark's striking gray-green ones. "I said we had to talk about what happened back there. I figured that was the best way to get you to talk to me." Glen lowers his head, Mark's unblinking stares always get to him, as much as anyone else. No one can explain how this man can just look at you and cause a whole range of emotion to swell up in you. The younger man knows it is not the dark powers that, so recently, laid dormant in his older brother. No it was more a part of Mark's nature. Whatever it was, it made it harder for the younger of the two to maintain eye contact.

Mark, for his own part, knew what his stares did to others, and, most times, found a guilty joy in it. But not this time. This time he wanted his brother to not fear him, or be uncertain around him. "Ok let's talk." He lays a hand on Glen's board shoulder. "Glen looks up, knowing this will not be an easy conversation for the two. "What did I do back there? Why were you covered in blood?" Mark sighs deeply as he removes his and turns back to look out the front window of the car, "I have no idea Glen, I wish I had an answer," he runs his right hand over the top of his head, and to the base of his neck where his tightly bound braid flows down his back, "All I remember is sitting down to eat then the next moment your…your standing in the middle of the diner and I smell like a charnel house." Glen looks down to his massive hands, the ones that had just nearly an hour before, held the head of a sweet woman that had done him no harm. "Is it the Urn," he asks, fearful of the answer. Mark shakes his head, "Your not connected to it. I am. It would explain what ever it was I did to be covered in blood, but not you. Not…." He cannot bring himself to finish the sentence.

Growling deep in his throat the older sibling puts the car back in drive and proceeds down the road. "We can beat ourselves up for days on end about what happened back there," he growling still, his eyes glued to the road ahead not daring to look to his tormented younger brother. "Truth is, we won't know what is happening till we get to Paul's and get his help. He knows you as well as anyone. Maybe he will have answers for both of us." Glen nods his head; "Maybe we should have called him, before heading out. I know we had to move fast, but just walking into on him…" Glen was still apprehensive about seeing his hated father and now, would prefer to just talk about this over the fun, though he knew that was impractical. Mark, for his part, had not even thought about calling his former manager and handler. "Sounds like a good idea, give him a chance to think up something for both of us." He nods to the back seat of the rental. "Get my cell, his number is in the phonebook." Glen frowns slightly with confusion and it is as if Mark can feel and hear his thoughts when he smirks. "Enemies close and all. Besides, Paul has not been a threat to either of us for years. You really have to let it go Bro. I have and you know what he did to me. You, at least, he cared about." Even Glen can hear the bitterness in his brother's voice when those words are said. Glen, decides to let it pass, knowing his brother would prefer not to go into his feelings right now, and reaches about, after removing his seatbelt and grabs the cell phone from Mark's jacket.

Putting the belt back on, as he is not sure he will not have to shock his brother into stopping the car again, Glen opens the phone easily finding his father's number on Mark's phone. The large man listens as the phone rings setting his jaw when he hears the hated voice on the other end. "It's me…. Mark had me call…. what?" Glen looks up to his brother, who glances at him in wonder, before returning his eyes back to the road. "How did you kno…oh…well then you know…Um…. ok…" Glen glances at the mile markers that pass by then at the car clock, "I'd say about another 30-40. Ok, I'll let him know…um…Paul…. thank you." With that Glen closes the phone and places it in his pocket. The silence lasts another 2 minutes before Mark, driven with curiosity looks over to his younger brother. "Well. What did he say?" Glen shakes his head a little bewildered, "He says he knew about the Urn, and about…well you know. He says he has been busy since he heard preparing things for us, when we arrived." Glen gives a small amazed smile, "He said to tell you, it will be ok, not to worry, the Urn will be returned to you and the person responsible will be dealt with." I guess you were right, Mark. My father is not the man I remember. If a man that evil can change, then there is a chance for the world and for us." He turns his gaze on his brother and for the first time, since they both found themselves in this nightmare, he had felt there was a light at the end of the tunnel and that light might just be Paul Bearer.

As the, so called, Brothers of Destruction, drive down the lonely road to what they see as their salvation. The man they are pinning their hopes on, is quietly laughing as he gazes into a bowl of dark fluid, within he watches and listens to the two men he has always called "His". "Soon my boys, soon, neither of you shall have a care in the world. Right my friend?" The soft dark laughter from the dark stranger soon fills the room, followed by the rich evil southern laughter of his host.


	6. Darkness: Avoided, Succumbed

**Disclaimer: **Don't own them. Got it?

_Well the next chapter is up and ready folks. I hope those that have made it this far are enjoying the story so far._

_I want to thank two people for explaining a few things to me; Vega Sailor and Sarah. I understand my writing style is not eveyone's cup of tea. I mean heck, I'm surprised I have a writing style. LOL_

_Anyway just wanted to let ppl know I will be continuing in this vane of writing till the story's done, so run while you still can. :)_

_To be honest I have no idea how to write any other way. I'm lucky ppl can figure out what I'm trying to put down as it is. So, please be patiant. (yeah I know I keep saying that) it'll pick up I promise._

_So one with the next chapter!_

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It's almost 11:30 when Mark and Glen pull up to Paul's house. Both are exhausted, both from the long drive and the emotion turmoil they have been under for the last 2 days. Exiting the car Mark glances up to the house noting there are no lights visible in any of the windows. "I wonder if he is still up." Glen, closing the car door as quietly as possible, mindful of the neighbors, looks to the house as well and shrugs. "He's expecting us, my guess is he's in the lower library." Taking a deep breath he starts for the walkway, detouring to a side path that seems to lead to the back. Mark follows silently behind, "Best to use the back way, don't need to wake his family, or anyone else, for that matter." Mark agrees with a nod as Glen opens the gate to the backyard area of his father's house and moves to a set of steps leading down to a large metal door.

"Want to do the honors?" Ask Glen with a backwards glance to his brother. Mark just shakes his head. Something is bothering him and he cannot put his finger on it. Glen, for his own part, is not normally as intuitive as his older brother, but, at times, can pick up on Mark's feelings and is now starting to feel his own bout of nerves. "Mark…" Glen's tone is soft, as if he is afraid to wake someone, or something. His older brother shrugs, as that is all he can respond with. He hears the question in his younger brother's voice, but he has no answer for him. "Lets get inside, quickly."

Glen nods once then turns to the door and slowly, traces a design on its surface. The two large men stand back a bit, as a faint glow emanates along the door's outline. The glow shifts through the color spectrums till is seems to pulse a pure white. At this point Mark steps past Glen and pushes at the door, not all surprised as his hand passes through, what should be, solid metal. "Come on, before someone sees us." With that the older man steps fully past the door and disappears from sight. Glen though, does not follow on his brother's heels. The trepidations that had started with his brother, had now taken full hold of the younger man and he cannot shake the feeling, that something was very very wrong. He looks to the door that was supposed to lead to answers and maybe away to find the person that killed Mark's family and stole the Urn.

Was it his feelings about his, much hated, father building on his older brother's bout of nerves, or was it something else. Glancing around Glen cannot see anything amiss. All was as he remembered during his time living with his father. The pool he first saw the day Paul, finally, had to allow him out of his dungeon-like room. Paul knew Glen needed to be familiar with the world outside, or he might prove to be too uncontrollable, even for Paul. Glen cannot help but grit his teeth in anger at how his father had treated him. He knows it was not always about Paul's schemes and machinations. Sometimes, especially round the time Paul was near to leaving the wrestling ring, that Paul seemed to show any sort of affection, or true caring for the man he helped to create, in more way then one. And with the usual inevitability as breathing, Glen's thoughts drift back to his early days of life with Paul, who many hold with great affection.

"If they only knew." Glen smirks as he speaks the words he oft times verbalizes when he thinks of the fans and how often they will ask him how Paul is doing. How they miss him and admire him for his dedication to wrestling and the "Old School". There is no doubt of Paul's dedication; to himself, and the power he derives from their devotions. "Paul is the consummate chameleon," he thinks to himself, "he gets the fans to see him one way. Those in power to see him another, and the true "Paul", is not even close to any of those." Taking a step from the door his brother has long since passed through the tall massive man that is Glen Jacobs becomes lost in his own past, as often happens when he is forced to think of his father and his childhood. He wonders what would have been his life if the fire had never happened. A smirk takes possession of his visage as he contemplates that unlikeliness. Mark was destined to do as he did. Paul had no hand in Mark's actions, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself of that. Since he and his brother had come to terms with each other, neither man can deny the truth of that day.

It was his brother's own demons that lead to his actions of that night. Glen shakes his head sharply "Stop putting it all on Mark would you!" Glen admonishes himself out loud. He knew, one day, he would have to admit how his very existence played a part in what happened. It is the main reason he has been able to forgive his brother for the loss of a mother, a home, that was more then a 10x10 room with no windows, and a normal life.

Mark, too, had lost much with his actions. The lighting of that fire left him at the mercy of a man that would never love, nor care for him. A man that saw the broken spirited child with a connection to some undefined ability as his own ticket to power. Tales his older brother would tell, of how Paul talked him into doing things, the young boy knew were wrong. But he came to the conclusion, with Paul's help, that he had already murdered his family, what use was there to stop at the things Paul would have him do. And it was those "things" that Paul had him do that, in the end, made Mark who he become by the time he set foot into the WWF. Glen moves around the pool still feeling that unease and wanting to identify it, wanting to stop thinking about his childhood, or Mark's for that matter. There were more serious things in the present then what were in his past that he could not change.

Finding nothing to explain Mark's earlier nerves or the sinking feeling that had a strong grip on his guts, Glen decides it would be best to just join Mark and Paul. Whatever it was would, present itself in time. "They're probably wondering where I am by now." Saying that as he comes to the door, it hits Glen, that no one had come looking for him, not even Mark. Considering Mark's trepidations of just a few minutes ago, he would have expected him to come out looking for Glen, just on those bad feelings alone; he would have. Now that feeling that something was amiss could not be denied, it gripped his insides and pounded on his innate sixth sense. Why hadn't his brother come looking for him? Why didn't Paul have the door ritual done so Mark and Glen could get in quickly? All other thoughts of lost childhood and family were gone. All Glen could thing was that something was wrong and he had to get to Mark quickly.

That realization seemed to free the large man from his hesitation as he pushed through the still glowing door and right into a large hand wrapping, like a vice, about his throat. Glen is taken so much by surprise that it takes him a few seconds to realize the iron grip about his throat is being applied by his older brother, who's eyes are glowing a pupiless white. Glen reaches for his brother's hand, trying with all his strength to wrench them from his throat. Already his air supplies is dwindling as light motes start to appear in front of his eyes. "Maaarrrkkk….sstoooppp!" these are the only words Glen can croak out as he feels himself slipping quickly into darkness, his mind wondering why is it so hard to budge his brother. The older man was stronger then most normal people, but Glen, for his youth and training, was usually able to give Mark a run for his money in the strength department. Something Mark has been forced to grudgingly admit. So why does it feel like Glens fingers was trying to pry open the hands on a stone statue. Such thoughts were fleeting, as Glen knew he had only a few more seconds before his brother choked him to death. There was no help for it, but Glen would have resort to something he had promised himself he would never do again, he would have to use his powers on his sibling; and quickly before he was deader then Mark ever was.

Closing his eyes he opens his senses to the world around him, feeling the very energy that encompasses all things in the world. He senses, more then feels, his brother's hand about his throat and attempts to excite the energy there. A minor burn to his hand should be enough to get Mark to loosen the hold long enough, hopefully, for Glen to out of the hold and put distance between and his brother.

With the fast encroaching darkness that starts to surround his vision, Glen attempt again and again to get his powers to work, to burn Mark's hand, to do anything, but it continues to fail him. Why? What is causing his powers to fail him so drastically? Glen receives something of a clue, as his vision blurs and he slips into darkness. The last thing he hears is the deep southern laugher of his father, Paul Bearer.


	7. A Trap to Darkness

**Disclaimer:**Don;t own them the ones I don't own, own the ones I do

_Well I'm back with a new chapter folks. Again sorry it took as long as it did. Writing seems to take a lot out of me, and I have to take breaks between sittings._

_I want to thank Sarah for her help in proofing this last chapter. I knew I could not do it myself this time out._

_Now for the thing I kinda hate doing. I love writing this story, even with the amount of time and energy it takes, I kinda like to know what others think of it. good, bad indifferant, I'd like to hear from ya. No need to review all the chapters I put up, but if you spot something wrong, or something is not working for ya, let me know. Thanks._

_Anyway, here is chapter 7. Hope you like, I'll be honest this one was harder then all other other 6 combined._

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"Time to awake my boy, we have much to do."

The words, though they sounded like they came from the inside of a long empty tunnel, were a welcoming experience for Glen, seeing as he though he was breathing his last breath at the hands of his older brother not long ago. At least he thinks not much time has passed. Cracking his eyes open slowly the first thing the large man sees is the face of his father leering at him with that much hated grin on his face. Unable to hold himself back Glen goes to grip the man around his throat with the intent of finally ridding himself and Mark of this loathsome person forever. It is then he realizes he cannot move his arms, or his legs for that matter. Thinking he must be bound by something he looks about himself, but finds nothing. He notes he is lying on the floor, in the middle of Paul's library. He is spread eagle and surrounded by burning candles of white, black and purple and that, in truth, nothing binds his limbs, yet he cannot get them to obey his will. He does realize that he has full use of his head as he scans the room, seeking his older brother, worried about him, despite his own dilemma. The sad truth of the matter is that Mark was always far more susceptible to Paul's manipulations then the younger man ever was.

Once Glen was able to break away from living under Paul's thumb the older man was never able to use him again, certainly not against his brother. Mark, on the other hand, fell to Glen's father over and over again. The Ministry, in fact, was Paul's idea, not Mark's. Paul was able to convince his older brother that the reason he was no longer as successful as he used to be, was because he had turned his back on everything that he, Paul, had convinced him, he believed in. It was not that Mark was not a sinister, dark and evil man. Those qualities were part and parcel of who Mark was inside by the time he became an adult. But using others to gain power. The act of trying to take over the, then, WWF was out of character, so to say, for him. It was Paul's grand scheme to finally gain the power he felt Mark would bring him, oh those many years ago, when he took in the young boy that had just burned his family up in their home. Luckily, for the Mark, and the WWF, Vince, who was as big a manipulator as Paul, maybe bigger, got to Mark's ear and convinced him that taking over the WWF was not where the real power was, not for him. And, in truth, Vince seemed to know Mark far better then Paul. After only a decade, Vince knew that Mark's whole interest were in the competition, not in controlling a corporation. Mark wanted to be the best, in a way. He was, also, far too much controlled by his connection, if you will, to the dark arts and his own powers. Whatever fed into that would override any other interests with the man. Vince was able to use that against Paul's control over Glen's brother and thereby the Ministry. Much to his father's consternation, Mark allowed Vince, to divert his interest from the company and used the Ministry, now the Corporate Ministry, to help wage his war against Austin and anyone else that Vince, in his own delusions, believed opposed him. Glen, cannot but smirk at the days his father would come home and fume for hours at his lost opportunity. It was those days that finally helped Glen break away completely from his father's control.

"Your…. son…. seems to find…. joy…in your past…. failures."

Glen's reverie of the past is banished with those words. He does not know the voice, but the sound of it seems a shiver of dread through the body of the man, many have felt knows no fear. It invokes the Monster-under-the-bed, or the-unknown-in-the-dark. Even bringing visions of the, real, Boogeyman. Glen can't help praying he never hears that voice again, but within seconds that pray goes unanswered as the voice fills the air once more.

"How…amusing…" comes the unwanted voice, "he…fears…. even a monster…fears." For the first time, in oh so many years, the man some call Glen Jacobs, and many call Kane, is afraid, and finds himself wishing for his father. Wishing like any young boy, huddled under the covers at some unknown sound in his room, a bump, a creak. Too afraid to run and turn on the light he knows will banish the horror of the unknown, to it benighted hiding place. Praying softly that his father would come, open the door, shed the banishing light on the room and make him safe once more. Glen closes his eyes, as unbidden tears threaten to escape. What is wrong with him, he screams in his mind. Why is he feeling and acting like a child he never was? There was never a time he could remember, when Paul was ever his savior from the horrors of his prison, both the one in his mind and the small room his father, himself, banished him to so many years ago.

"He is a bit simple," came his father's voice, as he moves out of Glen's sight, "it made it so easy to get him to do what I wanted him to do." Glen turns a seething glare on his much-hated sire. It is then he notes the change in the man who once was his whole world, then became the being he hated most in the world. Paul was no longer the rotund man that could barely walk with out wobbling from side to side. He would never be called thin, or athletic in build, but the man before him was far more fit then Glen ever remembered him. For a moment Glen wonders if Paul had been taken over by some demon, but, when Paul turns back to the younger man, he looks into the older man's eyes, he knows the truth. This is his father, this is the evil that had controlled his life since the day of the fire, and till the day he finally was able to walk away, his own man. And even with all that, with knowing who this man was, Glen could not help but ask one question.

"Why?"

Paul smiles evilly as he walks back over to Glen and squats down before him which draws a minor grunt from the still, somewhat, pudgy man. He does not seem ready to answer his son's question, but just looks him in the eyes, as if the evil man is relishing the confused and lost look in the wrestler's eyes. Finally he reaches a hand to Glen's cheek patting it, almost affectionately. "Because my dream is close at hand." His father stands once more, taking a candle from a nearby table and proceeds to walk about his immobile son. "You and your brother were able to set me back from those dreams, I will admit." After two passes Paul sets the candle down at Glens head, "But now you two will right that egregious wrong, whether you wish to or not." Paul moves off into a row of shelves, out of Glen's sight, leaving the mystically bound man to glance in the direction he had heard the voice emerge from. His eyes linger for only a second, as the terror he had felt at the sound of the voice threatens, once more, to seize his very being.

With no sight of Mark and no wishing to turn his thoughts or attention, to the darkened corner, Glen tries to figure out what his father is up to. How he figures he will be able to force Glen to do his bidding and bring his dreams to fruition. It is clear the Urn will be used to secure Mark's add in their plans. But Glen knows he is not linked as such to such mystical powers. His ability is purely natural, so to speak. No mystic vessel can take his will away. "Or can it?" The thought sends a thread of fear down the massive man's spine. What was his father doing? What is with that candle he held and why is it now sitting on the floor above Glen's head? He struggles desperately to see the candle, wishing he had paid more attention to it, while Paul held it. He, now, realizes, belatedly, that Paul was in the process of one of his rituals.

Glen had witnessed many such rituals when Paul would bring him out of his small prison. Most were directed at keeping his older bother in line, or getting him back under Paul's control. It took Paul sometime to realize, without the backing of the Darkside; Paul would never be able to regain his control of the older brother. This makes Glen pause in his struggles to get a glimpse of the candle. If that were true, a fact both he and Mark had overlooked in the panic of finding the Urn gone and his family slain, how was Mark being controlled? Was he? Had his father, or the one in the dark corner, gained the aid of the Darkside finally? Something was more then not right. There was more to this situation then Glen or Mark knew and Glen had to escape for both their sakes.

"Settle down my son." Glen hears his father return and looks his way, seeing he is carrying, of all things, the subject of his thoughts, the sacred Urn. "What are you doing with that?" Glen smirks; what ever his father has planned he certainly can't think to use the urn on him. "Wrong brother, if you think of using that." The smirk fades from the large man's features as she hears a soft tread from the other side of the room. He turns quickly and realizes then, that the Urn is not in his father's grasp for use against him. Its presence is being used to bring his ensorcelled brother into the picture.

"Mark!" The word that bursts from Glen's mouth is a pained guttural emotion filled gasp, more then anything else, as the younger man finally sees the state of his big brother. Mark's features are slack. The normally cold gaze is now more an emotionless, mindless stare. Glen, who thought he would be ready for anything, once he saw his brother, had expected to see the man so many had seen in the ring for more then a decade when he let himself commune with the dark forces. But this was not even close to that. There was no mind behind those gray-green orbs of his brother. Mark was a soulless husk. All that stood before the immobilized man on the floor of his father's hidden library, was a body. A shell without desire, thought, or purpose.

Glen, no longer able to look into the empty eyes of his brother, turns back to his father, the pleading in his eyes undisguised as he looks on the man he had hated for most of his adult life, and does the one thing he never thought he was ever do. He set himself to beg. "Please, father, please don't do this to him. I'll do what ever you want," Glen glances to the dark corner then back to Paul, "Whatever you both want. I'll obey without question. Please bring him back to me!" If either men listening in the room, had a soul, the look and the utter undisguised emotion in those words and the eyes of Glen Jacob could not help but move them to sorrow for his and his brother's plight. But that requires a soul, and for all intents, neither man had one.

Paul, smiles a very evil smile as he sets the urn down on a table and walks over to the zombie like form of Mark Calaway. Walking around the still form as he traces a finger along the much taller man's shoulders, he looks down on his erstwhile son for a moment, and then walks back over to the pick up the Urn. "Why should I make a deal my boy? I have all the cards." He moves close to Glen, kneeling near his head, "I have your brother in the best condition possible. He cannot disobey. He cannot decided he wants to be anything else but my creature. No my boy, I think I will turn down your offer." Glen's heart sinks, realizing the truth of Paul's words. Mark is just how Paul would want him, and completely compliant tool, a mindless weapon he can point in any direction he wants.

And then that voice again reaches his ears and he can't help that his father would just do what ever it is he has planned and send him to join his brother in a mindless state. But that is not to be, and with the words that reach his ears he experiences a sense of hope he would never dare allow himself at this point.

"I…say…. we except his…. offer" Glen, tries with all his will not to let the hope he feels reach his eyes as he turns them towards his father. That hope grows even more as he sees the look of contemplation fill the older man's eyes. "If I was to accept this offer, my son, I would not have to have a way of knowing you, nor would your brother turn on me and my associate the moment you are both returned to your much cherished independence." Its then that Glen realizes the trap they had been lead into. A trap he and his brother had walked into the moment they decided to seek aid from his evil father. A trap there was never a way to avoid, and would prove inextricable for both of them. He hears the foul chuckle from his father, and knows the fiend can see the truth dawn in his son's eyes, as well as the fact that Glen is well aware there is no way out, but one look to his lost brother and Glen knows he has no other choice.

Glen is not surprised that when he goes to lift his right arm it moves freely, not is it a shock that Paul lowers the Urn to him allowing him to touch the sides of the vessel. Soon words that Glen had heard many times when he was younger reach his ears. He never knew what they meant, but Paul would explain to his, then, excepting son, that it was a spell of binding. A spell Paul, at one time, hoped, would rebind Mark to Paul's control. It turned out the spell only would work on human beings that were not already bound to a mystic source. It would never work on Mark, it would, though, be very effective on Glen.

"Repeat the words, son" Paul instructs Glen. With no other way out, he could see, the younger brother of Mark Calaway repeats the words as instructed, binding his soul to the Urn, removing much of his humanity as needed to assure he would not be able to renege on his avowed promise to work willingly with Paul and his demonic ally. Glen cannot hold back the tears of hopelessness that slip from his eyes as he feels the spell's effect on him. It cannot be described, but he knows he is losing something, with each tick of the clock, each echoed word he recites after his father; Glen Jacobs becomes less and less, his own man.

It is, almost, a shock when Paul moves the urn from Glen's outstretched hand, and returns it to the table. All at once Glen realizes he can move completely and stands, moving quickly to his brother, who has not moved since coming into Glen's view. It is then the massive man comes to understand the full scope of the trap he had stumbled into, and how he was trapped with a lie. For, once he was closer to the form, he believed to be his brother it became clear that it was not his brother at all. Behind a very elaborate illusion, stood a lifeless mannequin, the same size and build of his brother. Glen screams with rage, letting his power set the false Mark a flame as he turns with blazing eyes of rage on his lying father. "YOU TRICKED ME!"

His father, seemingly unconcerned by the unmasked hatred and murderous rage in his son's eyes walks over to his chair and sits down. "Why yes my boy, I had to gain control of you somehow, and this seemed the best of all possible worlds." He pats the urn lovingly as she smiles at his deflating son, who finally realizes he cannot do anything to his father. The ritual and the Urn, now prevent him from seeking revenge on the man. "I know control you both with the Urn. Far more efficient then trying to construct another binding vessel, don't you agree my Undertaker?"

Glen turns quickly, as, again, he hears the cat like footsteps of his brother, who appears far less zombie like then the illusion of him had. Glen cannot but lower his head at the look in his brother's eyes. He realizes that Mark must have been nearby all this time, but could not make his presence known to his brother, could not warn him of the trap and the lie being woven, to ensnare his soul. It is obvious from the look in his older brother's eyes, he holds himself to blame for Glen losing his soul to Bearer. Glen would not have agreed to the ritual, if he was not trying to free his Mark from, what he thought, was a mindless state of subservience.

Paul, whether to show his control over the two men, or just to be petty, interrupts the silent tableau between the two massive brothers. "Enough. It is time for the rest of our plan to be set in motion." He nods to the darkened corner, where the other room's occupant had sat quietly since the end of the ritual to bind Glen to the Urn. The rustle of soft cloth fills the room, as the being that had resided in that corner for some days now, finally steps into the light. The dark robe he wears is reminiscent of the robes that Mark had donned during his time in the Ministry of Darkness. But it is clear that some wardrobe person in the fashion district of New York City never made these. The dark, light-drinking robes of the foul being that moved to the center of Paul Bearer's hidden library, clearly hailed from a more sinister and dark realm. As Mark, Glen and Paul watched on, the dark enshrouded man, passed a pale hand over Paul's much used, as of late, dark orb. Bringing into focus several structures at once. Glen glanced to his brother, whose gaze had never left the orb, once he saw what was depicted within.

"In…. these…. places, my plan…. shall…. start." The soul chilling voice seems to have less affect on Glen, now he is bound to the Urn, and still, he would greatly prefer, not to have to hear this foul being speak. "You're playing a dangerous game, the both of you." These are the first words Mark has spoken, since being allowed to show his presence by Paul, and it is clear, by the scowl on the older man's visage, he is not happy with Glen's older brother's choice of words. "It is not for you to tell us, what games we are playing my boy. All you and your brother need do is secure the powers present in these places." Mark smirks and lays a hand on his young brother's broad shoulder. "Let's go. We have a job to do, and, if I understand their plan, very little time to accomplish it in."

With that Mark turns, without a backwards look to either Paul or the shrouded individual and walks towards the stairs that will lead back up to the outside. Glen completely lost as to what is going on, or why his brother seems to know what is going on. As he rushes up the stairs and catches up to Mark who is just getting into the car, he gives him a look, pleading with his older sibling to clue him in. Mark, for his part, says nothing to Glen, till they are well on their way out of town and headed down the main highway that will take the two brothers, back to the airport.

"Mark, I can't stand this, what are they up to?" Glen asks his disturbingly calm brother. Mark, smirks a bit, and then spares his brother a knowing smile. "Paul and his "friend" are planning on waging war." Glen frowns as he looks back at his brother, "A war? With who?" Mark sighs, as he pulls into the parking lot of the Airport. He climbs out of the car, leaving it where he has parked it, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition. He starts to walk towards the front doors of the airport as Glen moves up besides him. "They seek to wage war with the Darkside." Glen stops, completely stunned, but when Mark does not stop walking he runs up, grabbing his arm to pull him around to face him. "Why Mark? Why the Darkside?" Glen can't help the anger in his voice. He's out of the loop here and he knows that is not a good thing. "What are you hiding from me Mark?"

Mark Calaway, looks away from his younger brother, letting his eyes sweep over the people that mill about heading off to their lives in other states and other countries, finally with a soul-deep sigh, he looks back at his, now, exasperated brother. "They want something they can only get from the Darkside." Glen grinds his teeth with frustration, as he knows Mark is trying not to say something. "What damn you! What are they trying to get from the Darkside?"

Mark lowers his head and his voice when he answers. "Me, Glen. They are going to wage war with the Darkside and I am the prize they seek."


	8. Secrets: Past, Present

**Disclaimer: **Check the first chapter I'm lazy ;)

**A/N** _Well surprised surprise, A new chapter, after how many months? LOL._

_WellI said I was not a writer and I think this pretty much proves it. I started this chapter way back in Nov I think. I just could not seem to find the right words, or how to express what was in my head for this chapter. (Not sure if that is what they call writer's block or not, but there ya are)_

_Anyway, I hope this one is not to bad, when the words finally came to me, they were not actaully all that easy to set down in a way that felt right to me. So I hope this reads well to everyone. If not well, I hope it does not completly stink and drive away the few readers I might still have LOL_

_ Anyway, read on and enjoy._

_Oh yeah, I had two ppl email me asking me to get to it. I lost your emails over the last few months, but you both know who you are, and I want to thank you both for the kick in the pants. Took a while but I hope you both enjoy._

_So lets get to chapter 8._

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2 hours.

That is how long it has been since Glen Jacobs, the man known as Kane to the rest of the world, has said a word to his older brother. Then again what do you say to a man that has just told you that 3 powerful forces in the universe were about to wage war over him? What Glen did was stare at the back of his brother as he walked off, after dropping that bombshell at the entrance to the airport in Alabama. Since catching up to him, the younger man, had been to stunned to speak, especially as they were surrounded by men, women and children, that had no idea that the 2 giant men in their midst were more then what they seemed. Not even those that recognized them, as Kane and the Undertaker, wrestlers for the WWE, would have dreamed that the persona's they played in the ring, were not far from their true selves.

They had finally arrived in their first destination and for the last 2 hours, Glen was forced to try and figure out for himself, what Mark's cryptic remark could mean. After all, if gaining Mark for themselves was the ultimate end to Paul and his disconcerting friend's endeavors, had they not already accomplished it? In fact, they, now, had both brothers under their control. Obviously there was more here, then was apparent on the surface. Something about his brother, not even Glen, at this point in their relationship, knew about. Thing was, there was nothing about his brother Glen did not know. Since he was a child, wrapped in bandages from the fire, enduring pain that no words could truly convey, the younger man, was regaled by his erstwhile father of all the activities of his older brother. He'd hear of how powerful the young Calaway was becoming, of the Urn's arrival into his brother's life and his connection to the Darkside. Of the evil dark powers the older boy willingly allowed to be infused into his very soul. What else was there? What had his father, and Mark, withheld from him? After all this times, all these decades, just who, and what, was Mark Calaway really.

During the plane ride, Glen's mind drifted back to his early childhood, the time before the fire, the years of living with his family above the funeral home. Even at though he was fairly young he still remembers those days. How could he not? Those were the only truly good days of his whole life; at least at the beginning. He thought about how much his mother loved him and dotted on him, to the point of embarrassment at times. Their mother, in fact, was the glue that, for a long time, kept the family intact and, as he found out later in life, his brother sane and in check. He had found himself smiling, in spite of himself, when his thoughts went back to his mother. The one thing he always remembered about her was the way she would hum, off key, to some little tune she would make up in her head. Tunes she would then, when caught by her two sons, teach them, and the three would then, dance about the kitchen, or dinning room humming. There was, strangely enough, something angelic about his mother to the young Glen. Many times, when left to his own devices, he would sit in the living area, and draw picture after picture of her with angle wings and when he would show her the drawings she would laugh, give him a big hug and affix the picture to the fridge. It got to the point where she was forced to make an album of his pictures as it soon became hard to open the fridge door. The album, like the rest of his childhood, was now, long forgotten dust.

It was not just Glen that his mother was so good with. It was clear to everyone, even to a young Glen, that his older brother lived for her.

Mark had always been a strange child. Glen would hear other kids in school tell tales of Mark when he was Glen's age. They told how even the teachers would be spooked by the eldest Calaway child. Here was a child that never smiled, and would very rarely mingle with the other children in or out of school. Many times young Glen would be asked if it was true that his older brother would spend all his time walking about the gravestones in the cemetery behind their home, or if Mark actually talked to the dead bodies in the funeral home. Glen never knew what to say when asked these questions, for even he tended to be unsettled around his older brother at times. It was not like Mark would do the things others would speak of, not exactly. But there were other things, things Glen would never speak of, that would keep the younger boy from being completely at ease around his sibling. And smoking behind the embalming room was the least of the things Mark would be into, or lead his younger brother into.

But despite it all, the one person that young Mark made pains never to upset, or drive away was their mother. Glen would remember many times Mark would be in one of his "moods". At these times Mark would be found sitting under a tree, not far from the grave yard, gazing endlessly off into space, or perched in the hood of the family hearse coldly watching his father loading or unloading bodies. The first time a young Glen sought to join his brother in his reverie he was coldly rebuked, told to go play and leave him, Mark, be. It was the first time, ever, his beloved brother had ever talked to the small boy in such a way, and it sent him, tears glistening in his eyes, running to his room. He found out, years later, that his mother had seen what had occurred between her sons, and confronted Mark about how he had just treated his younger brother. He now understood, why not long after the young child had thrown himself onto his bed crying in private that he heard the door to his room open and the weight of his elder brother settle on the edge of his bed. Mark did not say anything, like an apology, he simply set one of his prized G I Joe figures next to Glen, jerked his head towards his room, got up and left. Glen learned to leave his older brother to himself on times like that.

Sometimes Glen wishes he knew what it was about their mother that held such sway over his older brother. No one else held the boy's respect and especially not their father.

His father, in fact, was a different story entirely. He was a good man, for the most part, but very strict, and, at times, very unyielding. He expected a lot from his two sons, much more then would be expected of two young boys not even in their teens. He was the largest mystery in Glen's young life. One moment he would be smiling and telling his young sons about some fable he had made up, then the next the smile was gone and he was, once more, deep in his work, sending the boys off to their mother, or to some chore about the home. He seemed to only change his demeanor around Paul. When those two talk, most times in private, there seemed to be an unspoken camaraderie that to this day, Glen cannot understand, or explain. He once, a few years back, brought it up to Mark, just to see if the older man, had the same impression, and his response was almost as odd as the current situation he finds himself in now. He gave Glen the oddest look, even for him, sighed and told the younger man, not to worry about a relationship that is long dead, and the world is better for it. For many days Mark's response bothered Glen, and he could not figure out why. Though in time he forgot it, as other worries took hold of his life and mind. But now those words and the look his brother gave him have come screaming back into the large man's mind along with a very unsettling and indefinable feeling. Something was not right, and he is sure, that it traces back to his childhood in someway.

Glen decided he was going to get to the bottom of this now. He was tired of being in the dark about the situation, and the truth about his brother. "Mark…"

"Not now Glen, I'll explain it all when I think you can handle it" Glen immediately stopped in his tracks in shock. Did he just hear right? The large man had not even let him finish what he was about to say. He did not even hesitate or slow his stride. The younger man's brain was about to go into overload. Of all the things Glen knew about his older brother, the ability to read minds did not count among "powers". At least that is what he had thought, but now the younger Calaway was not sure.

After a second the large wrestler shakes his head, as he hurries to catch up to Mark, who was currently signing for their rental. Glen was tired of trying to sort things out. For now, he would just tag after his brother, and do whatever it was they had to do, till something, anything, became clearer, or his brother decided to clue him in.

Glen was happy to see that Mark had set them up with a larger car then normal. Even with a normal full size car, both of the men, tended to be a bit cramped when they chose to drive to certain venues. This also told Glen that they would, with all likelihood, be cooped in a car for sometime. This thought reminded Glen that neither he nor Mark had seen a shower, or a change of clothing in two days now. "Maybe those looks we got on the plane were not fans recognizing us", he thought, to himself, with a wry smirk. As Mark slid into the drivers seat Glen, in an unusual playful mood, and in spite of the current situation he found himself in, lifted his arm and blow in his brother's direction.

"HOLY FUCK, GLEN!" yelled the older Calaway, "What the hell is wrong with you? Shit, you fucking stink!" Glen just shook his head, as he put on his seat belt. "Hey brother mine, you lifted up your arm recently?" Glen smirked at the outraged look his brother shot him as he, also, placed his seat belt on, "I'd say we left one hell of a vapor trail from the gate to here." Sighing Mark, starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. "I guess, before we head on to our first destination, we better get a change of cloths and a shower." Glen frowns a bit as he works at adjusting his seat, so he is more comfortable, allowing his long legs some breathing space. "And how do you figure we do that? I live in Tennessee and you live in Texas. So unless you've got a luv-shack, here in Milwaukee, I don't see us changing cloths or showering." Mark's only response was to sigh dramatically as he dug into his shirt pocket, throwing a thick folded sheet of papers at his brother. "What's this?" asks Glen as he starts to unfold the papers. The older Calaway smirks and shakes his head. "I fell so sorry for Carl. Now I know why he's almost bald." Mark pauses speaking, as he concentrates on pulling into on coming traffic. Glen blinks at his brother confused, "What's that supposed to mean?" Mark taps the paper with one long finger, "That in your hand young man, is what we in the wrestling biz call a 'Schedule'. It's what lets us know where the shows are that we will be plying our trade for that night." Mark glances at a fuming Glen and winks good-naturedly, "You might want to use one, ever so often, if for no other reason, than for the sake of Carl's last, remaining, strands of hair, which I am sure he has been pulling out, each time you are one of his assignments."

Glen, who is well aware that he is one of the easiest wrestlers in the company to keep on track rolls his eyes as he looks over the schedule in his hands, shaking his head ruefully as he reaches the third line and finds that, in fact, their brand is scheduled to tape in Milwaukee tomorrow. Glen, realizes, this means that the advance people will be in town and they might be able to wrangle a room for a few hours or so. Then something occurs to him, as he turns towards his brother. "Hey, what are we going to tell Vince?" The concern and uncertainty clear in his voice. "Not like we can just admit, we are under a spell, placed on us, by Paul and some demon guy." Mark's eyes, lost some of the light that had seeped back into his pale green orbs, during his, short, jovial teasing of Glen, over the schedule. "I don't know Glen," sighs the large man, "I--I've been toying, for some years now, of revealing the truth to Vince and Steph." He glances briefly towards his younger brother, "But I knew it would not go well." He smirks a bit, "Either they would not believe, or Vince would want to start a whole new angle, with me really using my abilities on the show." Returning his gaze back to the road before him, he continues, "And then there is you. It will not take them long to figure out, that if I have real powers, then so do you. I just can't do that to you…I've hurt you enough over the years, I think I might want to try and avoid it when I can." Glen can't but hear the well-hidden pain in his brother's words. Mark had been working over time in the last few years, to rebuild the trust he and Glen had had when they were kids. Mark would feel that to reveal to others, like Vince, Glen's gift would set them both back in the long road to reconciliation.

For a while both men are silent, lost in each other's thoughts till Glen grunts suddenly. Placing his hand on the older man's shoulders and squeezes for a second. "A rumor is not a rumor that never dies." Mark frowns as she glances over to his brother. "What the hells that supposed to mean? Ain't that from the Usual Suspects?" Glen nods and smirks. "I have no idea. I think it means whatever ya think it means." Glen looks out the window for a moment before looking back at his brother. "Right now it means, for me, our secret could never stay a secret forever. So if it has to come out, I'm guessin this is as good a time as any. Mark nodded slowly, as he pulled the car into the parking garage of the U.S. Cellular Arena. Mark is stopped by the security guard at the ramp and despite not being on the list of wrestlers due in for the show tomorrow the man nods then through, due to knowing them both from the many times the company had held shows there.

As Glen is about to leave the car Mark touches his arm and shakes his head. "Let me find Vince or Steph and get permission for a room. No need both of us showing up." Seeing the look on his younger brothers face mark gives a half smile, Don't worry, I promise, if they ask what's going on, I'll have them meet us at the hotel so we both can tell them together. Ok?" Glen shrugs his answer, knowing Mark is right, but just uncertain about having his brother having to have to make that walk, past men and women, who would have heard, by now, what has occurred in the man's life, alone. Mark was a proud man, and pity was not something he cared for. "Don't worry bro, I can handle a few stares." With that Mark slips out of the car and makes for the backstage door. Even from the passenger seat Glen can see his older brother, physically steeling himself, his younger brother's worried, concern gaze never leaving him, till he steps through the double doors, disappearing from sight.


	9. Betrayal's devastation, Pain's sheild

**Disclaimer:** Go check the first chapter hasn't changed yet. ;)

**A/N:**_Well looks like I had another chapter in me sooner then I would have thought. I have to apologize, again, to those reading this. Seems the action is still not picking up. I just don't feel it yet. I do assure you there will be some action in time. Just not sure when :(_ _lol_

_I want to thank those that have reviewed. I am not out begging for them, but they do help me know if I am pleases at least one or two ppl. LOL. Like I said, I would still write this, it's just nice to know ppl like or dislike it. And I feel it's nice to acknowledge when others take the time to express themselves about what they are reading._

_Anyway, chapter 9 is here. Enjoy. :D_

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"I wonder if Glen brought all that casual bravado?" Thinks Mark as he moves down the hall of the arena. Almost the moment he stepped into the building he felt the eyes of the few workers around the building turn to him. Their emotions and thoughts like a battering wave against his consciousness. "No bro," thinks Mark as he works to enforces his mental barriers, something he learn early in his childhood to erect, an attempt to keep his sanity. "I don't read minds, they just like to walk into my head and take up residence." He did not know how much the last few days had worked on his energies and control till he started getting Glen's little mental monologs. Part of it was due to the spell Paul had him under. The spell was strong. Stronger then anything Paul had ever used against him or Glen. This fact worried Mark, for, by now, he should have been able to break the spell and free himself and Glen. It's why he had not put up much of a fight back in Paul's library. He felt it made more sense to wait till they were both clear of his former mentor and his disturbing ally.

Still here they were, the spell in full effect and none of Mark's attempts to rid himself or Glen, have had any effect. It had dawned on him, sometime ago, that this was not a charm from the Urn, as he had first figured. No, the Urn was a conduit, for the most part. For a binding spell of this nature to be as strong as it appeared, it would have to come directly from the Darkside, and that was clearly not a possibility. Mark breathes deeply, trying to clear his head, trying to solve this dilemma before he and his brother were forced to fulfill the bidding of Bearer and his friend. "Damnit, I've been free of you far to long to become your puppet again you pig!" The venom of the large man's thoughts would have burned the plump ex-manager if he were close enough to hear them. The very chance of once more being the tool of anyone, let alone Paul Bearer, was enough to cause bile to rise in the wrestler's throat.

Mark thinks back to when it was decided that he and Paul split in order for the, then, bookers to come up with more angles and storylines for the big man. They figured that pitting Taker against his long time mentor and manager would add to any new feuds, as well as allow Paul to help bring alone some of the companies new hires like Foley and Terry Gordy. In truth, at the time, Mark was really unsure about being on his own. It was not known, at the time, but even during his runs in Memphis, and WCW, Paul was always there, directing the young wrestler. Always in the background, making sure to maintain his hold on the young Calaway. At the time it was a big comfort to Mark. He was still, after many years, dealing with the loss of his family, and coming to grips with his own actions on that faithful night; as well as his own nature. Paul, kept a tight grip on Mark, and his powers, and for a long time the young man, never really understood how much control and influence Paul had over him or his life, or how truly vile and evil the older man could be. The split, it turned out, was the best thing to ever happen to Mark in his whole life.

Paul, for his part, was not concerned, at the time, about the splitting. He had been separated from his young charge before, and this time, at least, they were be in the same organization, just not traveling, together. His power over the larger man would still be there, or so he thought. By the time December rolled around, it was clear to both men that something had changed. Mark was wielding his abilities on his own, without direction from Bearer, and Paul's words were having less and less sway over the wrestler. And Mark's independence did not stop with the control of his own powers; he was also, starting to control his own life. He could finally revel in his love of being a wrestler, becoming so devoted to the industry that he began to rise in the respect and admiration of his fellow athletes. Even Vince McMahon, who few would see as a beneficent man, took no time in seeing the true value of the man that had been working, tirelessly, for his company for nearly a decade.

It did not take Paul long to realize that if he did not act quickly, he would lose Mark and all his plans would be for naught. Mark gritted his teeth in repressed anger when he thinks of that time. He was, by then, one of the most popular workers in the, then, WWF a real championship run set for the year, and it was all tainted by his grasping ex-mentor. The large man was no fool. He saw Paul's handiwork in the plans to rejoin him with Mark. But Mark was not going used again and he used his new standing with Vince and the bookers to adjust the planned angle, so that he and Paul's rejoining would not be the amicable one that the rotund Bearer had pitched, but a constant confrontational affair that would see it end in short time, leaving Bearer permanently out of Mark's life. Mark's fist clenches tightly as he comes to grips with how much he had miscalculated Paul's reaction to being out maneuvered. It would herald the start of the most bittersweet years of his life; for it lead to Paul bringing Glen out of hiding. He regained the brother he thought he had killed, as well as an enemy that truly, at the time, wanted to see him dead. Mark rolls his eyes in disgust, as he thinks back to those first months of finding out Glen was alive, and the revelation of his true parentage. To this day he refuses to believe the words Paul shared with that moron Lawler. His mother, would never, ever, give her body to that loathsome slug, drunk or not.

Not his mother. Not her.

The massive man, quickly slips between several large crates, when he feels his thoughts and emotions turn to his mother. Hidden from sight of the few men and women in the area he lays his head against the wall as balled fists pound rapidly against the unyielding surface while the man known as the Undertaker struggles with himself and the rising, uncontrolled, emotional storm, that is his reaction when he thinks of his mother and Paul Bearer. The thoughts that come, unbidden, when this subject emerges, come close to destroying the large man. She was the angle in his dark youth. The one bright light, that gave promise that his future had more hope then he foresaw those years past. She engulfed his tenebrous young heart, with love, understanding, kindness and light. In an effort to rise above the storm that he knew would weaken him at a time he needed all his strength, he allowed his thoughts to flow from the dark thoughts of Paul and his mother, and the truth he always flees from at times like this, and thinks of those times with his mother and brother. Times she would tell them stories, or allow them to help her in the kitchen. Forays that tended to leave more destruction then any he would reak in the middle of any wrestling ring. He remembers a time, before Glen was born, when his mother had come upon him standing in the middle of the cemetery, just staring off into nothing, even Mark can not remember why he was there, or where his mind would wonder too at these times. These were the times that scared the young child more then any other. It made him wonder about himself, wonder where he went at those times. His mother, simple picked up her young son, walked with him clinging desperately to her back into the kitchen. She set him down, lifted up his chin so his confused and frightened eyes met hers and just smiled. In that moment all the fear and darkness, that was perched at the fringes of his mind, fled, and left a lightness in his heart that he could not stop the bright smile that mirrored the one on his mother's benign features. She then places a soft kiss on his forehead, placed a cookie in his hand and returned to making the evening meal, singing a song Mark would always associate with her and that day. A song she only sang for him. Not even when Glen was born did she share that song with any other. It was their private song, the key that freed his soul, and locked away his demons.

The key he set fire too, along with his mother.

Finally, his thoughts had moved in the direction he had hoped. The only place they could go, where he could gain some, modicum, of control over himself. Self-hatred was the doom of many, but for him, it was a boon. He could handle hating himself. He could handle dealing with his own evils. He could not deal with the evils of one he respected and looked up too. Someone who he thought loved and cared for him. Such a betrayal was beyond even the, once, Lord of Darkness. Quickly Mark clamps down on his thoughts, steering them away, before they, once more, drag him down and towards that abyss. Pulling himself straight, he takes a long deep breath, testing his emotions, and setting his stoic façade, firmly, back into place. After all, what would the men and women of the WWE think, if they saw fear, dread or uncertainty in the eyes of the normally strong Undertaker? Even with the news of Sara and the kids' deaths, he was sure; many would not be ready for him to walk past them, with tears in his eyes.

"Sara..." He says her name wistfully. He had not thought about her and the kids, for a bit now. Finding out his former mentor was back to his old schemes had successfully driven that pain far to the back of his mind. But now, he allows that hurt to surface a bit. It was, almost, funny to him, that he should find himself, using a new pain, to shield himself from an old one. But the one thing he was, was pragmatic, he would use whatever tools he had at his disposal, if he was to maintain control of himself and see Glen and he were finally freed of Paul and his demonic ally.

Truth be told, he missed Sara very much. Despite issues they were having in their marriage she was still a good mother to his daughters; as good as Jodie was with his sons. Closing his eyes he chuckles ruefully. At his age, you would think he would be ready to settle down, stop jeopardizing his latter years of happiness with someone close. But still he acts like he just stepped into the wrestling business, looking for the next bedmate, while on the road. "Maybe I should just stick with real estate. No ring rats or desperate divas." Mark shakes his head at these words. He'd be dead bored to hell, if all he did was going around the country looking at dilapidated buildings to invest in. Was it really boredom keeping him in the ring? Was it the fact he would miss the camaraderie of the men he had come to know as his "other" family? Was it ego? Would he miss hearing the cheer of the fans? Or would he miss the looks of admiration from the young wrestlers as he walked down the hall to the ring, or back from a good match? To be honest with him-self, Mark really did not know why he had not retired yet. After all this was not the wrestling industry he first set foot in. Talent in the ring was not as important as it once was, and dedication and training was becoming a lost art. So many of these young kids are joining schools, or Indy feds, doubling as schools. Getting a year of training and face time, and then expecting to head to the WWE, TNA or Ring of Honor, where they will be big stars. Few do what he and those of his generation did. Few have set foot from the US, to travel to Mexico, or Japan to perfect their skills and styles. Most of these kids, look like carbon copies of Jeff, or Shawn, even Rock or Austin. So few of them bringing anything new or unique to the industry and that was what always, helped spur Pro-Wrestling, to new plateaus of popularity. Whether it was Hogan, Shawn, Austin or Rock. There always was something, or someone, that caught the imagination of the fans, that helped to bring attention to the industry and give it that boost to ride too a new era.

"Ok mark, that's enough of that." The large man chastises himself, "Your starting to sound like some jealous middle aged man, bitching about things not being how it 'used to be'." He, finally, sighs sure he is back on an even keel with his thoughts and emotions, figuring he had best find Stephanie or Vince, get the permission for the room and get him and Glen, out of here, before he finds himself waxing philosophically again.

"Mark…?" Mark freezes for a second, when he hears his name, turning slowly, quick to hold back the relieved sigh that threatens to escape as he sees it is not some random crewmen who has found the feared Undertaker hiding behind some crates talking to himself. "Thank God, Steph, just the person I needed to see." The large man, knows he has to rush this, he can see the concern and the questions in the eyes of the young woman before him. Stephanie McMahon, was always his favorite of the McMahon family, and she, seemed, to look up to him as some kind of uncle. And oddly he relished that relationship. Of her whole family this young lady was, from Mark's perspective, a pure loving soul, that, at times, could make drastic mistakes. Mark set himself as the guardian against those mistakes when he could. He was not away successful.

"Mark, what are you doing back here?" Another thing about the youngest McMahon was that she was very hard to sidetrack. "We've been worried, I've been worried. You have not called Dad, or the office. No one's heard from Glen. I called your mother, to see if you were there…" Mark, quickly, places a hand over the young woman's mouth as her voice starts to rise and he can tell others are starting to notice the two. "Ssssshhhhhh," Mark puts a finger to his lips, "I'm fine, Glen's fine. I just came to ask if we could get a room for a few hours so we can clean up and get a change of clothing." He sees her eyes frown as he removes his hand from her mouth. "Please, don't ask me what is going on. Just trust me. All we need is a place for a…" the massive wrestler stops as he see Stephanie's eyes narrow. 'Damn.' he thinks, could tell this was not going to go as easy as he had hopped. "Mark Calaway, do you really think I will just give you a room, and watch as you and Glen, who I spotted on my way here, sitting in that car in the garage, just drive off without an explanation?" Mark groans inwardly as he watches the woman's hands move, instinctually, to her hips, a stance that denotes that Stephanie was in her determined, uncompromising mode. One that not even Vince could shake her out of, till she was ready.

Mark contemplated lying to her. How would she know the truth, let alone except it. All he would have to do is say something on the lines of him needing some space to digest what had happened to his family and that Glen was with him to keep him from doing something drastic. It would make sense. To someone that did not know Mark as well as this woman before him did. He knew she would not buy it and all it would do is hurt her, and she would still insist on the truth. Mark locked eyes with his smaller protagonist and sighs resignedly. "Is Vince here?" Taken aback by, what seemed an out of the blue question, Stephanie nods slowly. Mark could see she was confused and now, very, suspicious. "Good. I won't have to repeat this more then once more to Linda." Mark places a gentle hand on the shoulder of the woman before him. "Just give me permission for a room, call Vince and tell him to meet us at the hotel. I--Glen and I will explain everything." Seeing the uncertainty even more pronounced in her eyes Mark gives her one of his rare and disarming smiles, "I promise Princess." It was his use of her nickname that breaks the spell of confusion as she takes out her cell phone and says 'Dad.' clearly into it. A few second later she begins to speak. "Hello dad…no…no, not yet. Look dad I need you to meet me at the hotel. No…I mean yes…I mean…. damn it dad I don't know what I mean. Look Mark's here with me, and…. dad…dad…DAD!" Mark rolls his eyes; Vince can be annoying at times, as he listens to Stephanie try and get through to her father. "Dad look, he says he will explain it all at the hotel, can you just meet us there…Ok, good….I'm going to get them a room, I'll leave it with the desk, if you are not there when we get there….ok, bye." She closes the phone then looks back to Mark. "After you. Oh and Mark…" Mark turns towards her, as he was about to move off back the way he had come, but before she can finish her sentence he does it for her. "...This had better be good? Trust me Steph, good is not what I would call it, but it will be big. The biggest thing you will ever hear in your life. I can assure you." With that he turns, not looking to see if she follows, as he knows she will. "Glen," Mark, thinks to himself, "I hope we are doing the right thing. After this nothing will ever be the same. Not for us, or them."


	10. Lives touching, touched

**Disclaimer:** I own me...sort of..but I'm not in the story. ;)

**A/N:**_Well here's the next chapter. Not sure, but I think it might be a bit long, or maybe not, I can never tell with how things will come out once I post a chapter. I hope it's not to long. Let me know, and I'll try and be less wordy. (is that a word?)_

_Oh yeah, readers will note something odd in this chapter, concerning a characters name. Don't worry, it's not a mistake, all will become clear in time._

_Once again thanks for reading and thanks to those that have reviewed. Much appreciated._

_Anyway, on to Chapter 10 _**  
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It was probably the most uncomfortable rides of all times.

With Mark and Glen, wondering how they would begin to explain what has happened in the last 2 days and Stephanie, clearly aware that something happened, with the two, beyond Mark's family's murder. Could Mark have found who was responsible and taken the matter into his own hands? The young woman sets her eyes to the back of the head of the man she tended to think of as a close uncle. She knew this man as well as anyone could know him. She figured only Glen and Bill knew him better. Well his wives may top that list, but she truly doubted it. As much as Mark will devote himself to who he is married to, it was clear not even those loves of his life, could displace wrestling from the large man's heart. His kids might contend for his affection, but who could know? Mark was not known for bringing them to shows. Not like the other wrestlers, who loved to show off their kids and wives to the other wrestlers and visa versa.

Stephanie could count on one hand the number of times Mark would bring Jodie or Sara, once she no longer traveled with him, to shows. Most times it was to pay per views, or when the company was holding a show in Houston. For the most part the women in his life remained outside of his other life, wrestling.

The thought that Mark my have killed someone, will not leave Stephanie alone. "Are they on the run?" She asked herself, "Am I about to aid two fugitives?" And what if she was? This was Mark and Glen. Despite how she acted on tv, she cared greatly for the men who worked for her family. Mark more then others, maybe. The youngest McMahon closes her eyes, trying to fight down the headache that is threatening to take residence in her skull. Firmly dismissing any though of these two as murderers, this leaves the young woman with the mystery of what it is the two large men were hiding and why they felt they have to meet her and her father at the hotel.

Running well-manicured fingers nervously through her hair, Stephanie tries to sort her mind, running back over the last few tragic days. Her thoughts go to the locker room, how the news of Mark's loss has affected the boys in the back. The news hit a lot of the talent hard. She can't diminish the impact the news of another lost wrestler, but to hear about the loss of a family, brings so much home to these men and women. In truth, even, Stephanie, at times, cannot really imagine what it is like to only see your family, maybe, a few times a year. For her and her family, when all is said and done, they can saw each other every day. Most times getting to go home and sleep in their own beds. Neither of them, except Paul, can say there really know what this life does to these men and women. Would she, could, she want to know? Sometimes she feels an outside, of sorts, when it comes to this subject.

Sighing softly to herself, she glances out the window at the passing cars and landscape. How often would she sit in her office when a slow feeling of guilt would creep its way into her thoughts and heart? It might be when she is working on a script that would lower the status of one of the men on the roster. She doesn't do it carelessly. No she would never deliberately seek to hurt any of these men, but she has to think of her families business, and at times she sees a sacrifice must be made for that to happen. She just wishes that that sacrifices was not always put on the shoulders of men and women just struggling to put food on their tables and clothing on their families, or roofs over their heads. At those times she will have to sit back, push the papers away and try and reconcile this life she was born into with the hurt it does to others.

There was never a time, in her life, when wrestling was not at the forefront. She grew up around it, around the people that made their livings in it. She thinks about them now and has to swallowing closing her eyes to block out the tears that sometimes threaten to slip forth. So many men she used to know. Men she would call uncle, or run to down long cable strewn halls to jump into waiting muscled arms, delighting in comforting hugs. Men she would never see again, arms that would never hold her. Men lost to a life-style, as outsiders so flippantly refer to it now, a life-style that was fun, exciting, and could be very devastating in the end. It brought with it, some financial security, certainly, not for everyone, and even for those that did come out with a secure bank account, few were left unscathed. She thinks of Terry and shakes her head. A man that many think has it all. Yet, in such a short time, all that could be gone.

Then there are the ones that don't even make it out. So trapped by wrestling they cannot see it is time to move on, or find there is nowhere else they can go, nothing else they can do. She shakes her head slightly at the thought of the fate of these men. And there are the most tragic of all. The ones that do get out, but, in one way of the other, it is not a real freedom. Lost health, or life. Stephanie balls her fist tightly. No she will not continue this track of thought. She misses these men the most and it hurts like hell to know she and her family make their living this way. She doesn't want to take the blame, if blame must be placed, for the tragedies of this industry, but there are times, when it is hard to. Sometimes hard to figure out just how much is it wrestling, human nature, or some other, indefinable, something, that makes this the most destructive business in the world, in the wide spread cost to human life, that does not involve having people shooting at you. And why, do men and women, knowing now the very nature of wrestling, do hundreds still seek it out? For all her 30 something years, she is still at a loss as to what the real draw could be. If she was not born into this industry, she is quiet sure, she would not have stepped 2 ft in its direction.

"Passion Princess, passion and finding that one thing in the world that calls to your very soul." Said Mark with an, almost soul deep, sigh.

Both Glen and Stephanie gape wide-eyed at Mark, who had not taken his eyes off the road, while making that little comment. Glen wonders why his brother even said that, as he glances back to the young McMahon. Clearly his big brother was talking to her, unless he had decided to come up with a new nick for Glen. And in that case he would have to beat his brother into a pulp for calling him "princess". Stephanie, for her part, was dealing with the thought that the man she had known for a good part of her life, just acted like he was reading her thoughts. Turning her brown eyes to meet that of Glen's miss matched pair a cold feeling crept down her spine. For the first time in her life, Stephanie Marie McMahon was scared. Scared of the men in the seats in front of her. Scared of what she saw in the eyes of the man looking back at her. Scared of the man driving the car she, now, felt trapped in. How could Mark have known what she was thinking? Did she speak out loud? No. She never does that, she learned well from her father to keep her inner thoughts and feelings to herself. "My God! Did Mark read my thoughts?" This new thought took permanent residence now in her head, replacing her wonders if Mark had killed someone.

Glen frowned. He could not miss the fear that was now well settled in the eyes of the young woman in the back seat. Looking over to his brother, he wonders what Mark had done to actually frighten a McMahon, this McMahon. Thinking on what Mark had just said, Glen, again, wonders why he even said it. It was as if he was answering something, that had not been asked…. or had it? Not for the first time, since this nightmare had started, Glen found himself wondering if his brother did have the ability to read minds. The younger man, thinks about how Mark had answered questions continually that had been popping into Glen's head, since leaving his father's house. Or how he had stop Glen from asking about his earlier declaration about the reason for Paul's actions. Sitting forward, once more, Glen cannot help but feel for the poor woman in the back. If it were him, he would be scared beyond reason right about now. And, if Mark could read thoughts, was he being so blatant about it? Normally his older brother would be more circumspect about what he could do. Even around Glen, Mark would rarely flaunt abilities he know Glen was well aware of, and would not, in anyway, freak out, for want of a better phrase, his younger sibling. But here he was, unnerving a woman he cared the world for. Glen could only assume that even Mark was starting to feel the strain of what was occurring in their lives.

Then again, who could blame the man? As strong as his older brother might be, even he had his limits. Losing his family and his freedom all in one day can break the will of the strongest man. This thought, starts to send a seed of dread into Glen's heart now. If Mark could break, if he could lose his world famous cool, how was he, Glen, going to hold out?

Glen turns his attention back to his brother and for the first time takes note of signs he had been missing, so lost in his own thoughts and concerns. Like how tightly Mark was gripping the steering wheel, or the cluster of veins at his temples. Not to mention how tightly his older brother's jaw was clinched. Glen realized the man next to him was in pain. Maybe not physical pain, but pain none the less. A slight sense of guilt swept over the younger man. Here he was bemoaning his own fate, annoyed with his brother for not being as forthright as he would like, and it was clear, now, that Mark was trying to deal with a lot of things beside their current position. Just the fact his brother seemed to be in some kind of physical pain concerned Glen the most. Setting a hand on his brother's shoulder, the only thing Glen could think to do at the moment. It was no secret the brothers were not really that demonstrative with each other, let alone other people, so he was sure this action must be confusing poor Stephanie even more, but he needed to show his brother he was there, the only way he could figure to comfort the large man and, hopefully, help to ease whatever pain Mark was trying to deal with alone.

The gesture was not lost on Mark, neither were the thoughts that were bombarding the large man, from the two other people in the car. What really took him by surprise was the fact that Glen's action actually did help to ease the pain that had been building in his head. With the lessening of the pain, Mark was finally able to erect buffers that would reduce, if not stop, the thoughts rushing into his overloaded mind.

"Thanks." Was all Glen got from his brother, but it let him know that he had done the right thing, and that his guess about what Mark had been going through was correct. "Hey," smirking as he responds back, "what are brothers for?" He can't help but laugh at loud when Mark shoots back with, "Being a pain in the ass, last I read, and lord knows you're the master at that." Glen chuckles good-naturedly, till he feels Mark stiffen under his hand. Then it hits him, as he slowly turns around to gaze back at the young woman, they both had momentarily forgotten was there. Meeting another wide-eyed stare from the youngest McMahon. This was not going at all well. "Look Steph, we'll explain everything at the hotel. Please just hold it in a bit more." He sees the questions in her eyes. As far as anyone, even Vince, were concerned, the whole 'brother' thing was just a gimmick that Paul, Mark and Russo came up with to help give Mark some more story possibilities. Glen was just Glen Jacobs, Issac Yankum or Uni-Bomb. He was a close friend to Mark, to be sure, but not his actual brother. What Steph was just subjected to was the truth. So now, she either thought the two of them had lost their minds, or she took what she just saw at face value and knew the truth, long before they were prepared to explain it all.

Glen sighed in relief as he saw the young woman nod and sit back, arms crossed over her chest. Yes, she would wait, but he knew, he and Mark had better pick their words carefully when they do spill it all. This girl was spooked enough already, if they revealed the truth in the wrong way, things could really get bad. If she, or Vince reacted wrong, the two brothers could be for a world of bad. With Vince it could go so far as revealing their secret to the world, just to improve business. Who would not start coming to WWE events on just the chance of seeing two real life 'magical' beings? Not to mention the number of power people that would love to get control of either of them, for their own gains. He did not even want to venture the thought of how the government would react to having two powerful men, such as they, at their disposal. Their lives, as they knew them, would be over. But Glen knew for Mark, the worse outcome would be to lose the closeness he had with Stephanie. To have the boys look at him differently. To see fear in the eyes of those he really cared for.

His brother, unlike Glen, allowed himself few close friends and ties, just because of this possibility. As much as Mark feared the loss of his freedom, he feared losing those close to him. One of the scars he gained from the fire. He, Glen, strangely was the opposite, despite his character on screen; Glen was very outgoing within the wrestling community. He was close to many of the boys and some of the women in the company. He rarely shied away from going out after shows or joining in on card games in the back with whoever would ask. In it's way, this was one of Glen's actual scars from the fire. He dreaded being alone and unwanted. He craved friendships and relationships like a drowning man craved air. Without it he felt lost, like he did back in the fire. Or locked away in his father's basement. This revelation would be a test he hoped he and Mark could weather.

Steph, for her part, could not keep a thought straight in her head. "What the hell is going on?" she thought, not for the first time tonight. "Mark and Glen acting like they were actual brothers." She thought to herself as she looks down to her shoes, taking a hand to brush back as strand of hair that slid in front of her eye. "Are they nuts? Their just friends, that whole brother thing is part of the act…. or is it?" She can't get the sight of the two in the front seat and how they acted towards each other. She watched as Glen, looked at Mark as if he was searching for something, then the hand to the shoulder, and how Mark relaxed under it. At first the thought the two were closer then just friends, hit her like a ton of bricks. She never would have pigged either man as gay, though, she knew, you can never really tell and they were very close. In fact, at this time, Glen was Mark's closes friend in the back. Was this the reason? All the thoughts of Mark and Glen as lovers were dashed from the woman's thoughts as the gesture was followed close on its heels with the words from Mark, then Glen. Brothers. As the young woman lets that concept sink in, her mind starts to answers a few questions she had always had, concerning the two.

She remembered when Glen was in the company as Issac. How Mark seem to make a point of staying as far from Glen, as Glen would stay from Mark. As well as how none of the parties concerned, this included Bill, were high on the short lived feud between the two. Then, without warning, after the disastrous attempt of using Glen to fill in as the "New Diesel", Bill proposed him to be the Undertaker's thought to be dead, younger brother. It was that and the idea of portraying the Undertaker as a murder that left Stephanie at a loss. There were other small things that few others seemed to pick up on. Like how Mark would watch Glen when Glen as not aware. It was the look in the big man's eyes that always bothered Stephanie. It was not hatred, or even curiosity. It was almost like…longing. Or the rare times when Mark would sit in on meetings and discussions for angles or storylines and inevitably, any attempt to lower Glen's place on the show was met with cold disapproval by him. There were no, outward, signs, at that time, that the two were friends, yet Mark made a point of protecting the younger man when he could. Oddly enough, Stephanie realizes, that friendship did not really take shape till after Bill was let go from the company. Glancing up, once more, looking at the back of each man's head, Stephanie McMahon comes to realize that maybe, what was just a gimmick to everyone else, herself included, was, in all actuality, the true relationship between the two men. But if that were true, why were they keeping it a secret?

And if they were hiding that simple fact, what other secrets where these two employees of her father holding?

Her train of thought was interrupted as she watches Mark pull up to the front door of the hotel. Without invite Steph is quick to slide out of the car. Well aware of how it might seem to her two companions, but unable to help her need to get into the fresh air, breathe and collect her thoughts. Mark sighs as he exits the car, tossing the keys to the valet as the young black man hands him a receipt. Glen gets out and walks past Stephanie, avoiding her eyes completely. He does not want to admit it, but the way she left the car, as if she could not wait to put distance between her and them, hurt him deeply. How would she react when she heard the truth? How will Mark take it, if she rejects him for being…well, a monster. "Let's face it," comes the unwanted thoughts, "that's just what we are. Living breathing monsters."

He turns his head as a hand comes gently down on his right shoulder and he looks into the pale green eyes of his older brother. "No. You're not a monster. You never were." Glen's breath catches at the utter sorrow deep in her brother's eyes and he cannot but notice, he said 'you're' not 'we'. Grinning the younger sibling pats the hand on his shoulder. "Neither of us is. Thanks Mark." With that Glen turns and walks into the hotel, as Mark watches him move away and wonders when his younger brother got to be so smart. Mark turns back to Steph, who had been watching the by play a distance away and goes to waves her in, but is caught up short by the look in her eyes and the welling up of tears. "Are you ok?" he asks as he moves to stand near her. She nods and smiles. "So that's how brothers act?" She giggles a bit as she looks down to dash the unshed tears away. "Maybe you two can give Shane some pointers." Mark can't help but give her a lopsided grin and bends down to whisper in her ear. "It's easy, just punch him in the arm a few times. He'll come around." Stephanie laughs in spite of herself then without thinking, throws her arms around Mark's neck hugging him as if she will ever get to do so again. Mark quickly returns the embrace without thinking, as the young woman whispers back, "I want you to know that whatever it is you and Glen have to tell us. Whatever trouble you are in, we're behind you. I'm behind you. We'll see this through, I promise."

Mark says nothing, just holds her till he is sure she has regained enough of her composure that she will not draw embarrassing attention to herself. Releasing her, he lets her move towards the hotel door and proceeding inside; following a few second later. As he walks through the door he catches Glen, staring at him with a bemused smirk. Shaking his head at his brother's tendency to never let things get to him, to the point he loses his sense of the amusing, Mark walks over and punches him lightly in the arm. "Ouch!" yells Glen as he rubs his arm, even though the punch was not hard at all, "what was that for?" Mark gives that crocked smile to his brother now, "Oh just keeping you in line." Mark has to keep form laughing at the fake hurt look on his younger brother's face. "God your mean." The older man glances over to Steph as she stands nearby with a hand over her mouth fighting a losing battle not to laugh, "See, I told you it worked…" His words are cut short and the mood changes as all three turn at the sound of the voice behind them.

"Ok I'm here. Whatever this is about had better be good."


	11. Secrets of the Dark, In the light

**Disclaimer:**Same old thing. So don't roll out the lawyers

**A/N: **_Well here is the next chapter. Man this one is long, but I was really into this one. Got a lot of my own personal outlooks into the Kane and Taker personas and back story into this. I hope ppl like my take on them._

_I want to thank all those that have read my story so far. I know its a bit long winded, I keep trying to cut back on the wordage, but I'm just not good at saying something in one sentence so it take me 5 LOL._

_Oh and I apologize for any grammatical and spelling errors that keep getting by me even after spell-checking. Its those things that make writing for me so hard._

_Anyway, again thanks for reading and here is chapter 11, enjoy. :)_

* * *

The man that had just spoken was clearly not in a good mood.

Vincent K McMahon, the owner of the WWE, stood with arms crossed over his broad chest. His face was set in a very annoyed and irritated visage, which let all three before him know he was not very pleased; a fact that did not sit well with either Mark or Glen.

They knew that at the best of times, Vince could be a hand full, and as determined as his daughter. Given the current situation, it would have helped if he looked to be in a better mood. Of the three of them, Stephanie was the one that could handle Vince the best without the direct threat of violence. There were very few times when Glen had issues with his employer, and no time, anyone can remember, where he ever took it as far as to confront Vince with them; a fact that, strangely, did not seem odd with either his friends or the fans. Unlike with his brother, few associated the large man with his on screen character. Many view the Undertaker as aspects of the man Mark Calaway, but no one seemed able to see Kane as representing any part of Glen Jacobs. A fact, for the most part, that was very true. For Glen, most of his ire was directed at his father, though in the past it was equally portioned between Paul and Mark.

Mark, on the other hand, was not shy about telling Vince where to go, when the situation called for it. Most times though, Mark would let Vince go his own way, and Vince would do the same with Mark. It was a very strange relationship from the standpoint of most that are close enough to see it. Some of the younger talent tended to be confused as to where Mark truly stood in the company. Its not like he was married into it like Paul. Yet, it seemed to many of them, that his status was on equal par with Paul and, at times, much higher. What balanced it, in many minds, was the fact that Mark very rarely pulled rank, so to speak. If there was a point of no return for how far Mark's standing would allow him to go, it has yet to be found.

Stephanie glances back at Mark and Glen, before walking over and placing a kiss to her father's cheek. A move she uses to hide her whisper in his ear. "Something going on just follow my lead." Vince gives no outward sign he registered what his had daughter said. He simply pats her arm as she turns to the two other men. "Let me get that room now." She quickly walks over to the front desk hoping to do this quick enough that her father does not get too antsy and start in on Mark or Glen. At this point she can tell both men are very wired, and any interaction till they get to the room would have a good out come.

Luckily for all concerned Vince seems willing to just stare at his two employees. Not saying anything till Stephanie returns, handing Mark a key for the room. Both large men turn without a word heading for the elevator. "Mind giving me a clue as to what's going on? Vince says as they follow a good distance behind the two massive men. "I'm getting the feeling this is not something bad." Steph shakes her head and sighs softly, "I wish I knew dad. All I have been able to figure out is that Mark and Glen are not just friends." The young McMahon is forced to stop and turn as her father falters in his steps. She looks back at his wide-eyed look. "Are you telling me they are…together?" The last word is whispered so Stephanie barely hears it. Smiling the young woman shakes her head, taking her father's hand hurrying to catch up with the two brothers as they hold the elevator for them. "No," she whispers back, "Their brothers, now hush till we get to the room."

Vince's first reaction must have been to stop and ask his daughter if she has lost her mind, as he started to open his mouth, but he must have thought better of it ceasing the action as he allowed Stephanie to continue dragging him to the waiting elevator. As the two passed the waiting Mark, the big man cast a curious look towards his employer, giving a slight sigh and stepping into the elevator to allow the doors to close and whisk then all to their floor.

The ride, which turned out to be all the way to the top floor was endured in a very uncomfortable silence. Outwardly no one who came on or departed the elevator, noticed the tension between the four other occupants, but for them it was almost alive. Mark, for his part stood, arm crossed, with his eyes glued to the changing lights that indicated the floors passages. Glen would let his eyes glance down between one McMahon to the other, while Steph, made a point of keeping a calming hand on her father's arm; not sure if she trying to keep Vince calm or herself. Once Stephanie glanced over to Glen, giving him a short reassuring smile, then looked at Mark. Glen could see the mixed emotions play across the woman's face. "She really cares for my brother," glen thought to himself, in wonder. Mark's though he never seeks it himself, seems to gain people's trust and loyalty without even trying. "Must be the tattoos." Glen thinks humorously.

A sudden snort from Mark draws three pairs of eyes in his direction. Yet Mark makes no move to acknowledge the fact he is now the point of interest of the other three, preferring to continue his observation of the moving numbers, yet he is greatly relieved as the others return to their own musings. He welcomed that momentary break from the dark thoughts that had been pressing on his mind he got from receiving Glen's mental comments, but now his thoughts once more delve on the coming revelations and how they would impact both men's lives. Vince was a smart businessman; so was Mark, in his own right. Even Mark could see the potential that this could hold for the company. Wrestling was not as popular as it was, only 7 years ago. Many fans had moved on and the newer fans were not as into the industry as in years past. Add to that, the much need casual fans and the non-wrestling fans, that would be drawn into watching, with stars like Austin and Rock, were showing no real interest, no matter what stunt Vince has tried to pull. Then you reveal that two of your top stars really where what they portrayed on TV and it would be hard to find an arena to hold the crowds.

But Vince's business acumen is the least of his brother or Mark's problems. If Vince or Stephanie decides to share their secret then they would then have to contend with other powers, both mundane and mystical, wishing to control the brothers. They could, if they should somehow fall, like they have now, to the influence of another, be used for any number of evil plots. Mark knows human nature all to well, to not know that he could be used to hurt innocents, and the one directing his action would, most likely, not feel any remorse for it. If Mark were to be truly honest, such acts would not stain his soul anymore then it already was, nor weight heavily on his conscious. It is his brother that would be hurt, if things were to go as he fears.

Glen had changed so much since ridding himself of Paul's influence. He was happy, open; the boys all loved or respected him. He could be counted on to lend a hand when there was need. A sympathetic ear when one was called for. It was a miracle transformation from the shy, reserved, sometimes violent, man he was under his father. Glen had the promise of a great life, with love and family. But that would end should their powers be revealed and he became a pawn in some madman's schemes. Such as the one they found themselves in at the moment. Mark knew he had to be ready if things went bad. If it came to it, Mark had to prepare himself to do whatever was called for to protect his younger brother. Even neutralizing the McMahons as a threat.

Almost against his will his head drops and his eyes move to look upon Stephanie and her father. Could he really do that? Could he end the life of one of the few men he had even the slightest respect for? Could he really snuff out the beautiful flame that is this woman before him? He knew doing so, would be the one crime he could never live down. The one stain that would never be removed from his, already, blackened soul. He knew he would surely lose his brother after such an act, but it would be a price he would happily pay; to make sure Glen's life would never again be filled with heartache. Mark forces his attention back to the number board, noting, absently, that they are coming to their floor. This would all come to a head in a few minutes.

As the elevator dings and the door opens on their floor, Glen wonders what Mark had been thinking just a moment before. He clearly saw the look his older brother gave the two McMahons and it was one that made him very unsettled; for he had seen that look many times in the past and it did not bode well for those that fell under it. His thoughts are diverted as Mark leaves the elevator and is followed by the other two occupants. Hoping Mark has a plan on the best way to break all the news to Vince and Steph, Glen follows as Steph takes the lead, taking them to set of double doors. This draws a quizzical look from both large men.

"Hey," Steph says as she sees the look both men give her, "I have the feeling you two need more then just hot water and clothing that don't smell like you wrestled Umaga three days straight." She glances to the her father, "and I think whatever it is you guys have to tell us, will probably require sitting and, maybe, a few drinks." With that the youngest McMahon swipes the key card opening the door and waving her companions into what turns out to be a very large suite.

At any other time Glen would be very impressed with the large well-appointed living area of the room, as well as the full kitchen and bar areas. Unlike his brother, Glen is not paid enough to rent out suites like this when on the road. Except for when big Pay Per Views roll around and he can expect to be in a city for a few days. Then, if only for comfort sake, he will opt for a small two room setup. The funny thing is, that even though Mark could afford to rent out suites, like this, on a regular bases, he rarely goes for more then two room accommodations. At this point, though, Glen was just happy to be someplace where he could relax finally and take a shower.

Stephanie takes a seat in one of the over stuffed arm chairs as Mark, without a word to anyone, makes his way to one of the adjoining bedrooms. "Mark, where are your luggage?" This brings both of men up short. In all this time dreaming of a shower and clean cloth, the two troubled wrestlers had forgotten that they did not have any clothes to change into. And, in fact, what clothing they had had was left in the other rental car back in Alabama. "Man I should kill Mark," thinks the younger man, "He's used to getting new stuff; he can afford it. I'm not the darling of the WWE. I can't just leave my wardrobe in ever state I visit." Mark sighs, as he realizes how much their current situation had overridden his normally organized thinking process.

"Just Great!" The sudden outcry even takes Glen by surprise, as Mark slams a fist down on a nearby end table, splintering the inoffensive furniture into kindling. Stephanie, for her part is behind her father in a flash, the scream that rips from her throat fills the room, as Vince stands, eye's wide, in shock and growing fear. Glen quickly rouses himself from his own shock at his brother's uncharacteristic display of anger and rushes over to Mark, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Mark ease up man, calm down!" Glen's reward for trying to bring his brother to his senses is to be flung back onto the couch in the far corner as Mark shrugs him off with ease.

"Ease up? Calm Down?" Mark starts to gesture wildly with his arms in the air, "Are you insane? My life has been turned upside down and inside out!" The large man starts to pace around the large living area, seemingly unfocused as he rants. Vince moves Stephanie and himself back behind the bar, watching as one of his main stars seems to be having a mental breakdown. Glen lays where he was thrown, gazing on the man he, at times, idolized for his stoic nature, and ability to stay cool in, even, the most unsettling times. Yet here he was, walking back and forth, his eyes on the carpet at this feet, gesturing haphazardly in the air, as he rages at their current situation.

Finally Mark seems to run out of steam, physically anyway, and slumps to his knees in the middle of the room. "She's gone." Mark's voice is low as he slowly runs his index finger, almost reminiscent of his in ring action to signal the Tombstone Piledriver, along the letters tattooed across his throat. "My baby girls." He touches fingertips to the sides of his neck where stylized names have been etched into his skin, surrounded by carefully placed filigrees. As low as those words were spoken, all three of the others in the room heard them and felt the soul deep despair that sounded them. "I always thought I could protect them from anything that might come." Lowering his head to the floor he screams out, "I COULDN'T PROTECT THEM FROM ME!" Glen is on his feet on the heels of those words. His brother needed him now, if no other time. Mark was blaming himself for what has happened and, for both their sakes; he could not let that happen.

"Mark! Mark, listen to me!" Glen drops to his knees and wraps his arms around his brother's torso, "It's not your fault you hear me? Don't let that scum of a father of mine do this to you?" He tries to pull his brother up, finally muscling the large man up and into a crushing hug, trying to physically will the man to come to his senses, to hear his words. "I used to blame myself for all the bad things that came my way. I did. But, in time I realized I was not the monster. What I am is not evil. What you are is not evil." Glen shakes Mark hard hoping his words are reaching him, "You've shown me to know and except what and who I am. Not to look within for fault when that is not where it lies." The pain, fear and sadness in Glen's voice cannot be denied as it fills the room, "We are going to fight this Mark, together, and we will win and those who deserve your anger will pay for your family's pain and ours." He leans back letting Mark's head lift as pale green eyes meet his own mismatched pair. "I told you before Mark, you'll never be alone. I'll always be here for you bro."

Mark's head drops for a moment, then raises back up, as he, once more, meets his younger brother's eyes. "Thanks." That is all the large man says before gently extracting himself from his brother's embrace and rising to his feet, holding out his own hand to help Glen up to his. Another brotherly embrace is cut short by an intruding voice from the bar.

"Would someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Vince's, unusually, calm voice, brings both men back to their present situation. Glen and Mark can tell that, despite the calmness in his voice, Vince is very uneasy about the display he has just witnessed, and Stephanie is out and out terrified. Something neither man wanted to be the case, especially considering they still had not gotten to the part of explaining about their current condition. Mark gives Glen a long look then walks over to the bar, noting as Vince moves a bit away, making sure Stephanie is well behind him. Shaking his head he reach over the counter top snagging a bottle of Jack denials and several glasses. "You want answers your gonna want a glass of this." He says holding up the large bottle as he walks back over to the seating area nodding for his brother to join him. Glen nods and moves to settle on the loveseat, after giving both father and daughter, what he hoped was, an encouraging smile. Concerned looks pass between the two brothers, till Vince and Steph finally leave their protective cover of the bar and take a seat on the couch. Vince makes sure that his daughter is on the opposite side, away from the two brothers.

Sighing Mark fills each glass handing one to his brother before having him pass the other two to Vince, letting him give Stephanie her's. Glen is the first to down his, bring a shocked look from both McMahons, as both know Glen not to be a big drinker, as opposed to Mark. This let both know that whatever was about to be said, really was big and the breakdown they witnessed a few moments ago, was only a precursor to something both began to wonder if they really wanted know about. Mark could hear their uncertainty and knew if they waited any longer their reactions were sure to be less then what they would hope for.

Taking a long swallow himself, Mark sets his glass down and leans back in her chair, closing his eyes once to steady himself before speaking, hoping Glen is ready. "Ok, her goes." He says opening his eyes and sitting forward her eyes on the two on the couch. "Glen and I are not friends." The look on Vince's face almost makes Glen fall over laughing in spite of their grave situation.

"Wait," says Vince as he slams down his drink, causing his daughter to take his arm to calm him, "You drag me from doing my job to tell me you and he are dating? As if I cared!" Vince's eyes are about to pop out of his head at this point. Vince stands, clearly ready to storm out of the hotel room, when Steph yanks on his arm. "No dad, he's trying to tell you their brothers, actual brothers." She pulls her father back down to the couch as her words sink in. "But that can't be." Vince looks between the two men, "You don't even have the same mother, what do you mean your really brothers?" Stephanie rubs a hand along her father's shoulders, partly to keep him calm, partly, cause she wants to hear what else Mark and Glen have to say.

It's Glen who takes over for Mark, who is already pouring himself another drink for the bottle. "No Vince. Mark and I have the same mother, we just have different fathers." Glen shakes his head as his brother goes to refill his glass. He decides one of them needs a clear head for this, and even though Mark is world famous for his capacity for drink, Glen does not want to take chances. He runs a hand over the top of his head, as Vince shakes his head in denial. "I know Mark's mother. And you have told everyone your mother died when you were a kid." Vince's voice is almost pleaded as he speaks, "How can Mark's mother be your mother, if his is alive and yours is dead." Glen is wishing he had taken that drink now and silently blesses his brother who speaks up at this point. "Because she's not my mother Vince. She's my mother's sister." Stephanie grips her father's hand before speaking, "Why have you two been pretending to be friends? What happened to your mother and father, and who is Glen's father?"

"Here we go." Thinks Glen to himself as he and Mark exchange glances. It is Mark who finally answers the question. "I killed my parents when I was a kid," he looks over to his brother as he finishes, "I also, almost killed my baby brother as well." Vince's hands slapped hard down on the table, making his daughter flinch for a second. "Enough, do you two take me for a fool or something?" Vince stands this time avoiding his daughter's grasp, "That's your damn back story. Are you two looking to make me angry?" He walks over to Mark putting a hand on his shoulder, easily an attempt at comfort, "Look Mark, I understand your trying to deal with a lot of things, with…well you know. But you both sound like your losing your minds." He drops to one knee in order to look Mark in the eyes, "Your starting on that road again Mark. You're starting to live your gimmick again. You can't slide backwards again; you've made great progress." Glen closes his eyes, having forgotten when Mark nearly lost it all a few years ago, when the Ministry was in full force. That was a bad time for Mark, and a very fearful time for Glen. He feared that his brother would reveal it all then and somehow his secret would come out as well. It was a good thing, for both men, that Vince was able to arrange therapy for Mark, letting him take time away from the ring and his gimmick. It was Mark's salvation, pure and simple, in a way, Glen's as well, as it showed the younger brother they way to escaping his own demons; as well as allowing closure and a reunion between the two brothers.

Mark realizes that just telling Vince will get them no where and could lose them their jobs, if they continue in this vein. The only way to do this was to cut to the chase, so to speak. On that thought, the large man takes hold of his boss's jaw holding his head steady, ignoring the shocked gasp from Stephanie, trusting his brother to keep her calm. "Does this look like a gimmick Vince?" So saying Mark allows his eyes to film over, turning completely white, like he does in the ring, except, as Vince could now clearly see, this was not a case of the large man rolling his eyes to the back of his head. Vince was allowed to see the slow progression as Mark's irises just completely disappeared. "Think back Vince, who proposed this back story?" Holding on to Vince's jaw still, Mark could feel him starting to shake in fear. He felt sorry for the older man, but he knew he had no other choice, but to handle it in this fashion. "It was Paul. It was Paul that introduced Glen to you and had you hire him as Yankum. It was Paul that suggested him for the roll as Kane." His attention is drawn from Vince to Stephanie as she hesitantly pips in, "Why would he do that? Did he know you were brothe…" she stops talking as a light seems to go on in her head, "You knew Bill before you came to work for my father. He must have known Glen back then too." Vince turns towards his daughter, as Mark releases him from his grip, listening as she plays it all out in her mind, at the same time it leaves her lips. "Bill's promos in the ring? None of that stuff was scripted for you guys back then. We'd always let you two go trusting you would be able to wing it." Her eyes move from Glen to Mark and back to Glen. "All that stuff he was saying? That stuff about working for your father? The fi…" She stops trailing off as her eyes go wide and she looks at Mark.

Mark closes his eyes for a moment, allowing them to return to their normal state, before standing silently. He walks away from the little gathering to stare out the large window down on the street below. "I'm not up to explaining the fire. Suffice it to say, it was one of the darkest days of my life. I destroyed my family, nearly killed my little brother and put my soul in the hands of an evil bastard." Glen knew he had to step in here. Mark was on the edge of losing it a second time, which would do none of them any good at this point. "We got separated, as you know from the angle. Mark," he nods to his brother who has not turned from gazing out the window, "ended up, for a short time, in foster care. Then into my father's care." He once more runs his hand over his stubbled head, "At the same time I was in the hospital seeing to minor injuries during the fire, and smoke inhalation." He chuckles a bit, "the scar stuff was just Paul's way of adding drama." He stops talking as Vince raises a hand, slowly rising back from his knees. "You two are really serious, all that stuff Bill was feeding Russo was actual fact?" He looks over to Mark, "You really set fire to your home?" He shakes his head in obvious disbelief, "Why?"

"I said I was not going into that." Mark turns to look Vince in the eyes. "It's none of your business why." Mark's attempt at intimidating Vince does not succeed as Vince walk up to the large man fuming, "You work for me god damnit!" Vince look Glen, then back to Mark, "With all the shit coming down on me right now, all I need is for someone to find out I have a god damn murderer under…" Vince stops cold, "Someone found out. That's what this is, isn't it?" he suddenly turns to Stephanie, "That's what they brought us up here for. Someone found out this asshole murdered his family." Stephanie stands, and it is clear she is the one that is angry now, "Stop it dad! Mark is not an asshole!" She moves from the couch and walks slowly towards the man she has held in the highest esteem for most of her young life, gently laying a hand on his broad chest. "I can't say why, but I don't think that's it." She turns back to her father, "I think, dad, it has to do with what he just did with his eyes, and the fact that Bill Moody is really Glen's father." Glen is amazed at how quickly the young woman has picked up on things with so little revealed so far. He is also stunned that neither he nor Mark had foreseen the reaction Vince would give them, on the subject of the fire. It would be funny to Glen, if they were not in such dire straights at the moment.

"Wait, Bill is Glen's father?" Vince shakes his head and walks over to one of the chairs and just collapses into it. "Ok, before I have an aneurisms, someone want to just give me the whole story in one take?" Stephanie walks over and takes a perch on the arm of Vince's chair, hugging her father while giving both brothers a look saying 'better make this good while you can.' Glen nods his brother to take a seat, which the large man does with a resigned sigh returning to his original chair, as Glen returns to the loveseat. He waits for his brother to pour himself another drink, gauging to see if Mark want to take back the story or not. He gets his answer as Mark sets his glass down, after swallowing its contents in one gulp and turning to look at his two employers.

"So we've established that Glen and I are brothers...half-brothers. That Paul, the man you know as Bill, is Glen's biological father, and that I'm a murderer." He holds up his hand to forestall the objection he could feel was about to come from Glen. "…And yes, Steph, this is about what I did with my eyes." He again looks directly into the eyes of the elder McMahon, "See, me and Glen's parentage is not the only thing about our gimmicks that are actually true," He looks back to his brother, "Now I think about it, it's kinda funny, as Vince here was the one that came up with the whole Undertaker idea. Well the original concept actually." He looks back to Vince and Stephanie, "Right boss. It was Paul's prodding that got ya to agree to the whole supernatural thing." He sits back running his long elegant fingers over his hair, "But ya liked the idea after awhile, and after all, I was only under contract for another year. What was the harm?" He chuckles, almost, to himself, "Who knew the fans would buy into it the way they did?" he shakes his head as if lost in his own thoughts, then leans forward his elbows on his knees as she entwines his long fingers together. "Thing is, all that power stuff, was based, like me and Glen's background, on fact." He sees Vince about to break his own decree of letting him talk without interruption and decides he has had enough, if he does not get past this point he is not sure he ever will. "Would you stop interrupting me Vince!"

Vincent K McMahon and his daughter are stunned. Vince with his mouth halfway open as he was about to break into Mark's explanation, while Stephanie is standing not sure if she just heard right; did they just hear Mark speak without opening his mouth? "No, your not crazy," comes Mark's voice, once more, out of thin air, "Paul always said he never lies, and when it came to setting up Glen and my background he was telling the truth. Our abilities are different, as night and day, but they do exists." He looks over to his brother and nods. Glen sighs and thinks what would be the best way to do this, then decides on the dramatic as he holds out his hand and brings forth a ball of fire, which he holds, suspended, above his open palm. "What the hell!" Vince launches himself out of the chair, dragging his daughter with him to a safe distance from the two brothers. All Stephanie can do is whisper, 'Oh my God' Over and over again. "Why are you showing us this?" Asks Vince, once he can find his voice, and even he can't disguise the high-pitched whine of fear that underscores his words. Mark just looks at the two, using his own vocal cords to answer, "Because recent circumstances have forced our hands." He turns his attention, now, to his folded hands, "Sara and the kids were not killed by some robber. They were killed by a being looking for the Urn." Vince frowns a bit, caught up in the discussion now, "But that things in the prop room back at offices. Why would anyone want that thing?" Glen shakes his head and chimes in, seeing his brother needed some time to collect him self once more. Each mention of his personal losses, seem to sap him of his strength. "No Vince, the actual Urn, that my father first used to bring to the ring. Not the one that later replaced it, when booking decided they wanted to do the stealing the Urn angles." He smirks, "My dad, could not take a chance on having the real thing out of his possession. He loses that, he loses his control over Mark." Vince nods as he slowly returns to his seat, his daughter following suit a few seconds later, as she, also, is lost in the discussion. "So that's why he insisted on having it back once they got to the back after each segment?" says Vince, "I always thought it was odd, but as those two were such big draws and I knew how wrestlers can be, I didn't really think to much of it."

"I see you are starting to believe huh Vince?" Mark speaks up, eyeing his boss. "How can't I, I just saw a man holding fire, that appeared out of nowhere mind you, in his bare hand?" Stephanie giggles suddenly, in spite of herself, "Lets not forget the man who can talk without opening his mouth." She looks over to Mark with a very amazed gaze, that even Mark finds a bit unreadable. "Let me get one thing straight, here. Bill Moody's real name is Paul Bearer? That's not just some made up name?" Mark nods an affirmative. "Paul, had his name changed to Bill, sometime after the fire, can't even tell you why, but he always made me call him by his real, well birth, name. Again I have no idea why." Vince suddenly leans forward, "Ok, we on the same track now, someone stole the real Urn, and…did what they did…something else is going on here isn't there?" Glen nods and stands walking over to the mini bar, happy to find some packaged food inside, "Yeah there's more, my loving father and the person that stole the urn, used it to bind me to their service, while regaining control of my big brother there." He removes an energy bar from the fridge and walks back to take his seat, catching his brother's indignant stare. "What?" Mark rolls his eyes and stands retracing the steps Glen just had, grumbling about how his brother is always thinking about his own stomach and no one else's. This elicits a soft snicker from Steph, as Glen gives her a wink. Mark returns after also grabbing himself a bar.

"So Bill, Paul, is trying to use the two of you for something?" Vince, who is known for never losing the string of anything important, continues on as if that moment of sanity had not just happened, "What is it he wants you two to do?" Glen, for his part, mumbles, "I wish I knew" glancing to his brother, as Mark rolls his eyes once more and looks over to Vince, "He wants power, what else? He wants the kind of power that would make you cream your pants." Vince's eyes go wide, the other two in the room, are not sure its because of the Mark's words, or about power, they get their answer with his next words. "And you and Glen can get it for him?" Mark shakes his head as he takes a bite from his bar, "Stop drooling Vince, and yes, we can." Mark balls up the wrapper tossing it easily in the trash bin, "Thing is, to have that kind of power, would plunge the whole world into a era of darkness not even you would find enjoyable." The large man stands, feeling three sets of eyes on him. "The power Paul and his friend seek, is the darkest kind of power. It transcends the very concept of good and evil and can be equated to primeval." He walks, once more to the window looking out over the city, as the room is, once more, filled with his disembodied voice, "This power was locked away for millions and millions of years. Not by mere mortals, but by powers none of you can even fathom." His head lowers with the next words, "But there was always to be a keyless door to that power. And the door would always reside in the simplest of things. Keyless so that door could never be opened, save by the powers of the ones that made it." He turns back to the other three, "Fool-proof huh?" he smirks, "they must have thought so. Problem is, nothing ever goes as planed, not even plans set in motion by unfathomable beings." Sighing he walks back to his chair and sits, "The keyless door can be picked, if you have the right tools and the right skills. Paul has the skills, and he and his friend know where the tools are. How they discovered them I can't even guess." The last was said in a low whisper to him self, but was still caught but those in the room with him.

"So Paul needs you and Glen to go get these 'tools'." asks Vince. Mark nods without speaking. "And we have no choice but to do as they want," responses Glen, when it is clear his brother will not be speaking again, for now. Inwardly Glen is in utter turmoil, if what he thinks is true, he knows he must find a way to prevent his father and his ally from seeing their scheme to fruition. "So how can we help?" asks Stephanie. This draws both brothers' eyes to her, as well as her fathers. She looks down to him and shrugs, "Mark and Glen have been out best and most loyal employees and I for one do not intend to just let them deal with this alone." She sets a gentle hand on her father's shoulders, "Look dad, you know Mark, you know he'd do anything for you, if something like this happened to you, me, mom, or even Shane, its about time we showed some loyalty back to those that have shown it to us." Vince, in response pats his daughter's hand affectionately and smiles. "Did I say I was not up for helping them?" He looks back to Mark and Glen, "But you two better know, that when this is all said and done, we are gonna talk about a gimmick adjustment, and publicity." Both brothers nod in surrender to what they knew would be the likely outcome to revealing their secret. "Dad! We can't expose them to the world are you crazy? Their lives would be ruined!" Vince stands looking his daughter in the eyes, "Steph, sorry, but on this I'm standing firm. We're barely keeping our heads above water right now. We need something, anything that will finally get national attention back on wrestling and this company, and letting people know that not everything in wrestling is fake will go a long way to doing that." He hugs his daughter seeing her distressed look, "Don't worry sweet heart, I won't let anything bad happen to them. We'll protect them anyone else, mundane, that tries to get at them."

Mark shares a look with his brother, as neither expected to hear those words. A spark of hope flickers in their eyes, as they consider, if they making it out of their current situation whole and with the world intact, they might have a life to go back to, if they can thwart the plans of Paul Bearer, and the dark being that helps him. A very big if.


	12. The rage of Despair

**Disclaimer:** The same as always. Don't sue me.

**A/N: **_Well here we have the next chapter. I really want to apologize that the story is not moving along a lot faster. I'm just letting it come to me as it wants and this is how it is coming to me. _

_I__ want to thank, once more, those that have taken the time to read my story, and especially those that have taken the time to give their opinion of it. Much appreciated._

_As you'll see this chapter is a bit shorter then normal, but when I got to that certain point in the chapter it just felt like the natural ending for it. I hope ya'll agree._

_Anyway, on with chapter 12._

_Enjoy. _

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It's been an hour since the two brothers had their meeting with Vince and Stephanie. In that time both had made good use of the bath tube, or shower, as is their preference, and are now relax in the hotel suite commandeered for them by Stephanie.

Glen has taken up residence in the large living are, laying out on the couch in a bath robe ordered for him by Vince before leaving with his daughter to see to other matters, according to him. Steph, assured Mark that everything would be ok, before she left; un-characteristically pulling Mark's head down to play a kiss on his check as she whispered her assurances. Mark, who was completely taken aback by the gesture watched as the two McMahons went down in the elevator. The last Glen had seen of his brother, he had walked back into the room, lightly touching his cheek before announcing in a far off mumble that he would go take a bath. The older man had yet to reemerge from the bad room he had disappeared into. Glen, who was, by now, growing bored of channel surfing the TV, ponder if he should look in on his brother. The way Mark had been acting, as of late, worried Glen and he wanted to keep a close eye on him; especially, considering the conclusion the wrestler had come to concerning their current situation. The trouble was he was comfortable, very comfortable, and he had not been that in 2 days now. He glanced at the time on the clock sitting on the end table near his head, and realized it was no, closer, to an hour and half since he had heard a peep from his brother. He decided it would be best to just check in on him.

Grumbling to himself as he rises from the couch Glen moves towards the room that his brother had laid claim to and walk in through the connecting door, fumbling absently with the robes belt. "Damn thing is still to small." Mutters the large man, as the robe and the belt proved he was never going to close it completely about his large torso. Giving up he pushes past the partially closed door and frowns seeing his brother is not in the large king sized bed. In fact it was clear he had not even touched the bed as the covers where still in pristine shape, unlike the room he had chosen where it looked like a tornado had plowed through on it's way to the bathroom, another disaster area, thanks to him.

Assuming his brother must still be in the bathroom, Glen shrugs and walks the distance of the large room to the frosted double glass doors. As he made the walk he could feel a slight nagging feeling in the back of his head, something was bugging him about the room, but it was not till he was about to rap in the door that it hit him and he turns back to the room. "Where's his cloth?" Glen knew his brother well and one thing about Mark, he was not the kind of guy that tended to take his clothing off in the bathroom. In all the time he had roomed with Mark, he always took his cloths off in the bedroom, covering with a towel to head to the bathroom, or just as is, which brought a grimace from Glen as he knew Mark did that only when he was in one of his 'mess with you' moods and wanted to freak his younger brother out. The older man knew he hated seeing naked guys. Not that he was homophobic or anything, in fact Glen was not sure why the sight made him slightly uncomfortable, but it did. Luckily he was able to hide this fact from the others in the looker room, where guys walking around in nothing at all was not uncommon. He knew the kind of teasing he would get if any of them found out. Not that he could not defend himself from the teasing, by slamming a few heads together, just the thought that others knew would always sit in the back of his mind and add to the knowledge that, in spite of everything, the boys still looked at him funny at times, due to his size as well as how shy and withdrawn he was early on in his career. "Face it Glen," he sighs to himself, "your still a freak to them, even if they don't know the truth."

The large man shakes his head to banish those thoughts not wanting to delve into that at the moment and bringing his thoughts back to what brought them on in the first place and that was the fact his brother's cloth were not where they should have been, and neither was his brother, for that matter. Glen did not have to open the double doors behind him; now that he focused he could clearly feel that Mark was nowhere to be found in the room, nor the hotel, for that matter. "God damn it!" he roared, "Why does he do these things to me!" The massive man was furious now, at his brother for leaving without warning, and at himself for not foreseeing Mark doing just this thing. Fuming he storms out of the room, making his way to the other room where he had left his own clothing strewn over the floor. He knew he had to head out and find Mark, before he got to far. Hoping that his brother had used mundane ways to leave him behind and not his powers. He could ask if someone saw his massive brother leaving the hotel, if he walked out the front door, there would be little hope of tracking Mark down, if he whisked himself away with his powers.

Glen's mood did not get any better as he dressed as his cloth's unwashed nature hit him full brunt, now that the rest of him was showered. "Damn, we really did reek." Gritting his teeth as he slips his feet into shoes he nearly jumps 10 feet when a deep, yet horse voice fills the room, "Going somewhere?" Getting his wits about him, Glen finally focuses on the door to his room where his brother stands framed, several large bags bearing the logos from various men's stores gripped tight in his fists. "Thought you were the one complaining we needed to clean up and change our cloth. Won't help much if all you do is shower and still wear the same puke inducing clothing Glen." Mark's tone is borderline scolding as he walks in sets down a few of the bags he was carrying. He looks at Glen for a few second with a curious eye, then shrugs and leaves.

It takes Glen a full minute for his brain to fully comprehend what had just transpired. It takes him another full minute to contemplate the best way to kill his brother and not go to jail for it. He is off his bed and storming through the suite into Mark's room in seconds, where his brother is in the process of disrobing. Not slowing as he enters the room he shoves both his hands into Mark's chest as the big man turns surprised eyes on him. Unprepared, Mark stumbles backwards on to the large king size bed, his jeans still encasing his legs about calf high. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Glen screams at his astonished brother, "How could you do that to me? I thought you had gone off on your own, damn it!" By this point Glen's anger had gotten the better of him, and he was not thinking, as he lunges at his prone brother, wrapping his large hand about his Mark's throat. "What do I do Mark? Do I have to kill you again, to make you stop doing this to me?" Tears start to spring into Glen's eyes, blinding him to the man beneath him, as his hand starts to squeeze tight around the massive neck in his grip. " I can't…. I won't." The obviously distraught man rambles on, seemingly, unable to complete his thoughts as he continues to apply pressure to his brother's throat.

"_Glen….__ Glen….__ Glen__…Glen_…" Slowly, Glen becomes aware of the soft voice intruding into his mind, pushing back the blind rage and fear that had sparked his sudden attack on his brother, "_If you keep at this you _will_ kill me. Glen you have to calm down, please. I really don't want to die…not yet…not again._" Along with the voice, Glen feels his whole being flooded with a love he had never known could exists. A love no mingling of bodies, or emotional connect could ever create, a love that is beyond the very concept of love, which no words could describe. With a start the wrestler opens his eyes to gaze down into the half-lidded ones of his brother, he is brought back to his senses with a start, as the realization hits him that they are not this way due to his brother's normally cold gaze. The fading light in Mark's eyes denotes the fact he is choking his brother to death. With a strangled cry Glen removes his hand from about Mark's neck gathering the older man into his arm, as Mark starts to emit a hacking cough. "Oh God Mark I'm sorry, please don't die on me." His voice is nothing but raw emotion as the tears of anger he was shedding only moments ago, turn to tears of fear. "Don't leave me, please god don't leave me!"

Slowly Mark brings his arm up and about his brother shoulder, intensifying the crushing hold already applied by Glen, Mark, his voice raw from lack of air, whispers hoarsely, "I think we have both established we are not going to leave each other, and that we will be there for one another," he is caught up short as a coughing fit burst softly past his lips, continuing once he can again speak, "I think it's about time one of use believes that, don't you?" Glen's voice is softer then normal when he finally responds, "Yeah." A slight tremor brings a frown to Mark's brow as he leans back look at his brother in concern. The concern turns into a smirk as he realizes Glen is laughing softly. "Ok, what's so funny?" he asks. "The fact that once I let ya go, there is a very good likelihood your gonna kick my ass for choking ya." Mark gives him his best evil smirk as he nods, "Ya figured that out on ya one huh?" Glen nods, chuckling harder, "Why do you think I haven't let ya go yet?" Mark leans closer and whispers into his brother's ear in his most evil dark voice, so reminiscent of the one he used back with the Ministry run, "Who said, I wanted you to let me go, this close I can cause so much more damage."

Glen did not need anymore of an incentive to release his brother, making sure he was on the other side of the room, before Mark could fully gather his pants back up his legs and around his waist. Mark, for his part, just shakes his head and sitting on the bed gazing at his brother for a few seconds before speaking. He could feel Glen's nervousness, and it had nothing to do with his threat of bodily harm.

"Mind telling me why I just came inches away from death?" he asks putting on a slight smile, to ease his brother's nerves. Glen just shakes his head, looking anywhere but at Mark. "No Glen, you don't threaten to kill me and then clam up." Mark's temper was starting to rise, why he was getting angry he could not really say, the tension of their situation, worry about what Vince will do with the information they just handed him, or was it something he was not totally aware of? Mark knew he had a connection with his brother, that was deeper then conscious thought, a bond, which neither could really control, nor understand. Was it this that was making Mark want to throttle an answer out of his brother? He had this deep nagging feeling that he had to get Glen to talk.

But Mark was not one to allow some unknown feeling control his actions, not anymore, not with all the other things happening in his life, he was not going to fall victim to his own inner demons. So he did not just get up walk over to Glen and start beating an answer out of him. He did rise and make his way over to his brother, but the only physical thing he did was to wrap his arms about his brother and hold him close. "Hey, whatever was bothering you, don't let it. We got to keep our heads on straight if we are gonna come out of this on the other side." He felt Glen nod then released him; turning away as a wicked grin pulls at the edges of his lips, and he proceeds to go back to the activity Glen had interrupted by his attack, removing his clothing so he could, finally, take that bath he so much needed. Chuckling to himself as he remembers his short trip to the local mall to pick up things for Glen and himself. It was the first time he had been able to go shopping, be recognized, and still have fans debate on getting near him due to the level of his odor.

Another evil chuckle slips Mark's lips as he sneaks a peek to where Glen was still standing, as he was now almost naked save for his socks. Glen wanted nothing better then to make a hasty departure from Mark's room, but he still needed assurances, deep down, that Mark was not going to slip out without him, and if that meant staying in the room till his brother got into the tub then so be it. He would just have to deal with the queasy feeling in his gut as Mark, strips down to his socks. The chuckle did not escape his hear, which made him roll his eyes. "Great," he thinks, "I'm all tied up in knots inside and he's fucking with me." As Mark makes to turn around and bend over to remove his socks Glen decides he has had enough, and he would have to trust his brother was going nowhere without him, cause this was his cue to leave. He was not going to leave without a parting shot though. Taking a towel off the stand near where he was standing he quickly rolls it up and sends a stinging shot at his brother's buttocks, laughing wildly as he makes a fast retreat out the connecting door, as mark jumps barking in pain. "Why you son of a Bi…" Glen slams the door shut on Mark's outcry, leaning on it, just in case he decided to seek revenge in the nude.

After a few minutes of not hearing his brother banging on the door, or seeing him pop in the room out of the shadows, Glen gets up the courage to open the door and glance in. The bed room was empty, save for Mark's clothing, still on the floor, and soft smile breaks over Glen's face as he looks on the floor near the frosted glass doors of the bathroom, where a pair of socks lay haphazardly discarded. Closing the door Glen whispers, softly to himself as he returns to the couch to where he, once more, tries to find something to watch on the TV, "Yeah Mark. It is time one of us believed."


	13. Food for thought

**Disclaimer: **Rinse and repeat

_Well seems the story is getting away from me. I have no idea why this chapter came out the way it did. Kind of does not feel, like it belongs with this story, but I just could not change the direction it took. So I'm kinda apologizing before hand. Frankly_ _I'll be glade when they finally get out of the damn hotel. LOL_

_I want to take this time to thank those that have reviewed my story. Thank you for taking the time to comment._

_Anyway, here's chapter 13, enjoy. _

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Another hour has passed in the hotel room occupied by the Brothers of Destruction. 

Glen had fallen asleep on the couch in the living area, as the TV flashed silent images at him. This was the picture that greeted Mark, as he existed his room, clean and fully dressed in a pair of dark blue lees, powder blue denim shirt and leather vest, along with a new pair of timberlands. Grunting in slight annoyance he walks over to his brother, "Get up ya lazy ass." He accents his words with a hard slap to the back of Glen's head to wake him up, causing the massive man to jump in surprise rubbing his head while eyeing his brother crossly. "Damn it Mark, why do you always have to wake me up by hitting me?" Mark smirks as he walks over to the bar for a glass of water, "Cause it's fun and less disturbing then giving you a blow-job." Glen gets up from the couch with a mocking laugh, "Yeah right, not a chance, I don't make enough." Glen smiles triumphantly as he sees the shocked and embarrassed look on Mark's face.

The younger man walks over to the bar, getting himself a glass of water, drinking it down as he notes Mark is still unable to issue a comeback from Glen's retort, reveling in this small victory over his, usually, quick witted brother. He reminds himself, when everything was over and done and they got back to their lives, he would have to thank Ron, for sharing with him the story of Mark's one and only game of Truth or Dare. His brother's next response nearly makes him choke on the water his drinking, "I'm gonna kill Ron, if it's the last thing I do." The nearly cold anger that has replaced his brother's shock and embarrassment, makes Glen regret, now, making the quip. Sometimes it is hard to know how his temperamental brother will react to something said or done. The unpredictability, that they used to play up about the Undertaker persona in the ring, back in the day, was not far from the truth concerning the real life like man. Mark's mood swings were legendary, and has left more then one joke teller, or prankster huddled and bruised on the locker room floor.

Glen realizes he needs to lighten the mood, before his brother decides not to wait to find Simmons and takes his anger out on his younger brother. "So um, hungry?" Glen is relieved as he sees Mark calm, almost immediately, clearly hunger was on Mark's mind as well, and would over-ride any need for retaliations. "Yeah," his older brother sighs as he moves from around the bar setting his water glass down, "What you have in mind?" Glen shrugs as he sets his empty glass down as well. "Well since the McMahons are paying, be nice to have something other then cold fries and hamburgers from room service." Mark frowns in thought, "Not sure we should go spending their money like that be, kinda, like taking advantage of the situation." Glen's snort derisively, "Come on Mark, with what we just handed Vince, do you really think he is not going to use this to his own advantage?" The younger man makes to head to his room, "The money he will make on us, in the long room, will make whatever we eat today, like a teardrop in the ocean." His brother chuckles as he takes a seat, "Yeah, for a second I forgot who I was talking about."

Glen laughs as he disappears into the bedroom, as Mark calls out so he can hear, "So no room service, eh? I take it you want to eat up in the Polaris?" The heart felt 'Oh Yeah!' that comes from the other room, makes Mark chuckle and shake his head, looking up as Glen comes hoping out on one foot as he tries to pull up his new boots, "Hey, not like I'm you and can afford to eat at places like that all the time. I may have been your brother in the story lines I was still looked at like a mid carder when it came to the account books with Vince and Linda" Mark's mood deflates a bit, at his brother's words. He knew that it really did not bother Glen, much, how he was treated and paid, he still made enough, as long as he stayed healthy, which the big man did, surprisingly. Something Mark cannot say for himself, as he has had more injures as of late. Still Mark could feel the inner feelings that, even, Glen would not admit to. Deep down it did bother his brother he was not as secure, financially, as he would love to be. It was then and there that the older man promised himself that he would see to it, that Glen was paid the same as him, and that, if Vince was going to expose them and their secret, they would both get a far bigger raise and stake in the WWE. It was long over due that he look after his brother and the one thing that had held him back was the secret they both tried to hide from everyone else.

Mark watched as Glen finally got both boots on and tied as he thought, if he and Glen can come out of the other end of this thing with Paul, things would be so different, even if Vince doesn't completely reveal all about them, it's sure to get back to, at least, the boys in the back. They will look and treat the two brothers differently, that was for sure. The biggest change will be for Mark; he will have to deal with the loss of his wife and children. Sighing softly, he leans forward with his arms resting on his knees, hands clasped as he realizes, this is not the first time he has lost a family. He has lost family three times and each time the fault could be laid at his feet; only this time the fault was not directly his. Yet still, what would have been the lives of these people, if he had been a different person, not born such a cursed soul. A hand on his shoulder rouses him from his introspection, as he looks up into the blue eyes of his younger brother. "No time for you to go day dreaming on me. You promised me food and your gonna deliver." He stands chuckling soft, "I would have, to have a brother that's a fine foods whore. Go get your jacket and let's go." He walks back into his room, secretly happy that Glen had interrupted his train of thought, as it would not have helped him any, and would just wear away at him, at a time he needed all the strength he had to deal with the present situation; there would be plenty time to grieve and wallow in self recriminations, once all was said and done.

Glen quickly walks into his room, grabbing up the new brown leather jacket Mark had purchased for him, silently relieved he was able to shake his brother out of whatever maudlin thoughts that had caused him to zone out, the way he did, in the middle of their conversation. He quickly checks himself in the mirror, liking the burnished turtleneck and tan slacks his brother had picked out, among other pants and shirts in the bags he had dropped off in Glen's room. He wondered, off-handily, when his brother had picked up an eye for cloth buying. He left his room seeing Mark standing near the entranceway, noting he had added a blue bandana to hold back his hair, which normally, would have been in a braid if Glen knew how to do one of those. Most times Make-up or one of the women in the back would do it for Mark. "You ready?" Came Mark's impatient greeting as Glen approached, "Yeah, to the food!" he chortled as he slapped his big brother on the back letting him lead the way out the door.

Stepping out into the hall, he goes to ring for the elevator, as Mark makes sure the door closes and locks behind them. "One good thing about eating in the hotel, we don't have to worry about bumping into anyone besides a few crew people, seeing as the show isn't until tomorrow and the rest of the guys won't be here yet," says Mark as he joins his brother waiting on the elevator, "We'll have to get up early in the morning and get on the road, to avoid being spotted, I have no wish to have to come up with a lie to anyone about why were not at the shows."

"If you did have to lie, what would it be?"

Both man freeze as a very familiar voice reaches them; turning around and looking down the hall that faces the elevator they see their worse case scenario standing before them. Rick flair, John Cena, Shawn Michaels and Paul Lavesque, know to the world as HHH, gaze back at the two brothers, none are smile, and the look on Paul's face is borderline furious. Before either brother can speak, they hear the elevator ding behind them, and for a fleeting moment both contemplate if they can quickly duck into the elevator closing the door before the men before them can react. That idea is dashed when they hear another chorus of voices from behind. "Taker?"

Glen recognizes Jeff Hardy's voice, and turns to confirm it is not just the young Hardy, but also his brother Matt, and their close friend Shannon Moore are with him as well. Mark does not need to turn and look as he hears the groan from his brother, confirm his fears; and everything seemed to be going so well. Glen is at a loss what to do, they could have lied their way out of this, if the other group had not heard Mark's very words on that subject, they couldn't run, with all escape routs blocked by their associates. Glen can't help but turn lost eyes to his brother, hoping against hope that Mark has some plan to extract them from their current situation.

For Mark's part he is also at a loss what to do as he meets his brother's searching eyes. Cursing his big mouth and the fact the cosmos had to prove it knew the meaning of jinxing oneself, as this all followed on the heels of his over confident words. The problem with having Mark cornered with no real intelligent and reasonable way out, is that he will resort to a more unintelligent and unreasonable way to extricate himself, this is proven as he turns suddenly, storming over to the first group, grabbing up Paul by the throat and slamming him up against the wall.

This act takes everyone by surprise, including Glen. "Mark what in the hell are you doing?" Glen fears that Mark has lost control as he mind flashes back to the restaurant on their way to his father's house and how neither can remember what they had done, but the carnage that was strewn about them spoke volumes. He rushes forward to try and pull his brother way form Paul, but is brought up short as Mark finally speaks, "We're not here, you did not see us. You will leave Kan…Glen, and me alone, or I will kill you. Do understand me?" This was not Mark out of control, Glen realize with a inward groan, this was his brother, at a loss for what to do, so he falls back to his old tactics of intimidation. Looking around, particularly in the terrified eyes of Levesque and he knows it is working, still, Glen realizes this is not the way to deal with this. They did not need these guys terrified of them when they finally came back to the company. Odds were Stephanie would tell Paul their secret and the others would find out sooner or later.

Setting a hand on his brother's shoulder to draw his attention, he shakes his head, "This ain't the way bro. We got to work with them after this is all over. You really want them cowering in corners each time we enter a room?" He speaks calmly hoping to reach the more rational brother he has become used to. He knows he has succeeded when Mark sighs deeply releasing the smaller man from his grip, watching emotionlessly as Paul slumps to the floor. Glen walks over aiding Paul to his feet as his brother closes his eyes and inhales deeply, "Sorry bout that. Kinda wasn't thinking." He looks to his brother, once more at a loss as to what to do, now that others have seen them besides Steph and Vince. Glen shrugs to his brother resignedly and works to make sure Paul is steady on his feet before speaking to the other 6 men that are still standing mutely around them. "Look guys, me and Mark have some issues to deal with. Vince and Steph know we're here, but no one else was supposed to. We got to ask ya not to mention us being here, ok?" He looks to Paul, knowing it would be his answer that would lead the others. He nearly collapses with relief when the muscular blond nods once, still eyeing Mark with some trepidation. "We'll say nothing, but you have to tell us, what's going on, why are you two being so secretive?" He looks over to Mark, this is the first time any of them have seen him since before the news about his wife and children's murders reached their ears.

Mark shakes his head to forestall the question he knows would come, "Don't ask. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, for now, for now me and Glen have to be away from the company for a while…." Jeff Hardy cuts off his words, "Did you find out who…you know…did you? Mark if you guys…" Glen, in turn, cuts off the young Carolinian, "Enough Hardy, we've said all we are gonna say on this. You guys have got to trust on this. Forget we're here, by morning we'll be gone. We just have to deal with some…things, that's all. Ok?" He looks at them all as they nod in turn. He is well aware that the minute he and Mark are out of sight they will be on the phone with Steph or Vince respectively. He concludes there is nothing to be done about it. He just hopes that they can reign in their curiosity till he and Mark are long gone tomorrow. "Come on Mark lets go eat."

Mark flashes him an astounded look, "You still want to eat?" Glen smirks, "Hey we've been found out, and the ceilings still up, and my guts screaming for some food. You promised me the Polaris and I'm gonna have the Polaris." Mark shrugs, having no real comeback to his brother's logic, everyone turning to the young Hardy when he chimes in, "Hey you guys are going upstairs?" Mark and Glen nod slowly rolling their eyes with the young man's next comments, "And Mark's paying? Great, he owes me a dinner, I'm coming." Six pairs of eyes blink as the Jeff sprints off down the hall, to his room, followed quickly by his brother and their friend, saying something about getting him to get Mark to pay for them as well. "You want to explain to me, when things got so out of control?" Mark whispers to his brother, as the other four men, continue to stand in the hallway, their eyes passing between the two large men. Finally Shawn speaks up, "When did you start callin Take 'bro'? Or Mark out in the open, for that matter?" He looks to Mark with narrowed eyes, "…. and when did you start letting him?" Glen flashes Mark a worried look, which turns into a frustrated groan as Flair follows up with his own insight. "Yeah, and why did you almost call Glen, Kane, then catch yourself?"

Both Mark and Glen, feel like they have both just stepped into quicksand and with each question they are drug deeper and deeper. It's clear they are way over their heads when Paul follows up on the heel of the other two, "Why didn't you want Hardy to finish? He was on to something, you guys found whoever killed Sara and the kids didn't you?" He looks with wide-eyes on the two, "Your on the run from the police." He says it like he had just solved the Lindbergh baby murder. He gets agreeing nods from both Flair and Shawn, till all heads turn to John Cena. "Guys if they had killed someone and were on the run do you really think they would be in a hotel about to go to a very public restaurant?" he shakes his head, "Nah, something else is going on here, other then them killing someone, and I think Shawn and Naitch, are on to something with what Mark and Glen said, or tried not to say."

"That's it," roars Mark, "I've hand it! You want to know, fine. Paul, call your wife, tell her I said it was ok to tell ya. Then, ya can come bug me and Glen later, but I'm hungry and so is Glen and we are going to eat." With that he turns not waiting for any responses, getting back to the elevator just as Jeff comes running up. He looks down at the young man, giving him his most intimidating look, "You listen and you listen tight. We are going to eat, you can come, but if you bug me or Glen about anything other then work, the restaurant, or what color you should dye your hair next, I will personally throw you out one of the windows, you read me?" Surprisingly un-phased by the look he gets from Mark or the warning he receives, the young Hardy smiles and nods, "Got ya Deadman. Uh, can Matt and Shannon come too?" Glen chuckles, in spite of the situation, amused by the young man's resiliency and total lack of fear, even when faced with his brother. Piping in before Mark could respond, "Sure kid, they can come, but the rules apply to them as well." His brother shoots him a sour look, and then shrugs as he sees that his brother has read the situation as hopeless, and he cannot disagree with him on this one. Neither brother is surprised as they here a call from the other group still down the hall, "Hold us seats we'll be up in a few."

Glen quickly calls for the elevator, fully aware of the uncomfortable air that surrounds the gathered men, as they wait for the elevator to return to their floor. The mood remains throughout the elevator ride and while they are all being seated, thankfully, in a back private area. This, at least, prevents the wrestlers from having to field autograph seekers and other fans; something neither brother is up to dealing with at the moment. Even the wait for the other wrestlers to join them and the ordering of food is done in weighted silence of men aware that all is not as it should be.

It is, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable dinning out any of the people at the table have ever been apart of. So no one was surprised when out of the blue, Jeff Hardy finally breaks the spell the whole table had been under, once the food was served and the waiter had departed. "So what color do you think his fur is?" Asks the young man as he takes a fork full of his saffron and thyme infused risotto. His tablemates look at each other confused, as Shawn frowning responds, halfway through cutting a slice from his Kobe beefsteak, "Who's fur Jeff?" The young man looks up as if he if he was not sure what Shawn was referring to, as he tries to speak around the mouthful of lobster in cream sauce, "Oh, sorry, the 300 lb gorilla sitting between Mark and Glen."

Glen quickly drops his spoon, splattering Lobster Bisque on to the table as he lays a hand on his brother's shoulder to keep him where he is, wondering if the young fool really does have a death wish, as many have surmised over the years. From his drug use, to his wild antics in and out of the ring, it is hard to believe the boys is not dealing with some serious demons of his own. He is about to chastise the boy for blatantly taunting Mark by breaking his dinning rules the first chance he has to open hid mouth, but is beaten to the punch when Paul speaks up first. "Looks Jeff, just shut the fuck up and eat ok. Mark told you what you can talk about and if you don't want to see your pay check minus a few zeros, you'll keep that quick mouth of yours on the allowed subjects or your food, got it?" Of all the eyes on Paul after he as gone back to his London Broil, Glen is quick to not, that neither John, Rick or Shawn seem to be taken aback by Paul's outburst. He shares a quick look with his brother, before Mark removes Glen's hand from his shoulder and returns to his porterhouse.

"So you called your wife huh?" Mark does not look up from his steak, but it is clear he is speaking to Paul. "Yeah big guy," Paul responds after taking a sip of his wine, "We'll talk after the meal." Mark nods, then shows his brother he is completely resigned to what will come, as he looks over to Jeff who, it is obvious, is itching to say something. "You hold that curiosity till we get up stairs, and you start a conversation that does not include me and Glen and keep it going for the rest of the meal and I'll get Steph to book us in another Ladder match." Jeff's head pops up like it was on a spring, and the grin that erupts on his face with Mark's next words nearly has the whole table laughing at how comical it is. "I might even let you beat me this time." The young hardy beams from ear to ear, turning to the rest of the table and without missing a beat and as if he was just continuing a conversation that had been going on since they sat down nudges his brother in the sides. "So like I said, you and Shannon can hold the boards, and I will still be able to walk along it on my hands."

Glen can't help but look at his brother in awe; he had completely forgotten that his brother was just as good at manipulating people as Paul was. Eating in silence he is amazed how, in a few minutes the whole table, save he and his brother, are embroiled in one conversation or another. Also amazed how the nervous atmosphere had been lifted and everyone was, for the most part, acting normally around each other and the two brothers. After awhile, he finds even he is drawn into a conversation or two. Only Mark remains outside of the by play going on at the table, but that is not unusual; it tends to take a lot for his brother to join in to such table talk. Usually he only does when it's just him and his normal running buddies, none of who are with them at the moment.

Once the mood lifts, the meal goes very smoothly, the desserts come, along with coffee. The dinners sit at the table a little longer to relax and let their meals settle.

"Wow! I have never eaten anything so great in my life. We have all got to do this again sometime," This from Shannon, who is leaning back in his chair patting his not so ample stomach as if he was a sumo wrestler. "Only if Mark's paying again," Come the satisfied moan from Matt. Glen chuckles slightly, "Oh Mark's not the one picking up the tab this time, this is all courtesy of the boss and his daughter, Oh and I guess Hunt here." Glen grins from ear to ear at the astounded look the muscular man gives him, turning incredulous eyes on Mark as the waiter walks up with the bill and he tells him to charge it to his and Glen's room. It is fairly certain now, his wife has told him a good part of the story. "But…but…. we just had over a $200 worth of food and wine!" he nearly gags when Mark stretches and begins to stand. "More like 300." Everyone at the table works hard not to fall over laughing as Paul mutters something along the line of being killed when his wife fines out. "Ok let's get upstairs, time for answers." Mark breaks in, sobering everyone up once more.

The trip back up to their room is, once more, done in weighted silence. They all file into the large suite, once they reach the room floor and follow Glen and Mark to their door. The Hardys, Cena and Shannon, can't help but whistle their appreciation for the accommodations they see. "Glen grab a bottle of Jack and some glasses, I am sure they'll need a drink in time. Glen nods to his brother moving to fulfill the request, ignoring the fact it sounded more like a command. The younger wrestlers quickly take up perches on the large couch as Rick finds the most comfortable chair in the room. Shawn hops up to sit on the bar, as Paul takes a leaning posture against the large windows, arms folded over his well-muscled chest. Glen, sets down the glasses and bottle, indicating that one of the younger wrestler open and pour, which young Moore proceeds to do. Once the first two are fill, Glen takes them going over to Shawn and Paul handing one to each man.

Once everyone has a drink except for Glen and Mark, the latter, who had disappeared into his room returns having removed his jacket and vest, nodding as Glen goes to do the same. Mark walks over to the bar, taking a bottle of water out of the mini fridge, well aware of the tension that is building in the room, but unable to force himself to not prolong he inevitable. Glen in his room, also knows he is stalling, as he removes his jacket, deciding to take off the shirt as well, slipping on a white undershirt before returning to the outer room. He catches the water bottle his brother tosses him from the bar, nodding his thanks, as he takes up a position near the entrance way to the suite. To a paranoid person it would almost seem as he has set himself between the other men in the room and any escape they might try and make. Mark, in fact, smirks at the unconscious move on his brother's part. He, on the other hand, takes a seat on a stool at the bar, near where Shawn is sitting.

"Ok Paul what did your wife tell you?" The muscular blond looks over to his massive associate and shakes his head. "Honestly what she said made no sense. Hell at first she would not tell me a thing," he says it, as if he was speaking of the world gaining a mouth and speaking. "I had to insist you told me to call her, before she would say anything. Then she tells me this stuff about…." He hesitates looking to his oldest friend in the world, Shawn, as if for help, which he gets as Shawn looks over to Mark, "She said that you and Glen were really brothers, and that all that background stuff about a fire and all was true." The four young men on the couch start to laugh, Cena nearly choking on his drink when he hears Shawn, "Ok, you guys had us there for a bit. What is this, some kind of delayed hazing or something?" His words are followed by Matt's laughter fill pronouncement; "Yeah their brothers and Mark set his family on fire. And me and Jeff are changelings, left here by fairies." Shannon, starts pulling at the back of Matt's shirt laughing, "Hey Matt where's ya wings?"

None of the three young men release that one of them is not laughing, but it does not miss the notice of either Mark or Glen, as they turn their attention to the youngest Hardy and the utter shock and sadness in his eyes as they are settled completely on the older brother. "How could you do that? How could you hurt your brother that way!"? The words he screams bring an abrupt halt to the gaiety of the other three young wrestlers, as his brother puts a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "Hey Jeff easy bro, it's just a joke they are pulling on us." His hand is knocked away as the young man pops up moving away from the others on the couch drawing shocked eyes to him, "It's not a joke! Their telling the truth, that's what Mark, was trying to cover up. It's what Glen slipped up on, when he tried to get Mark away from Paul." He turns his eyes to Glen, "Your real name is Kane, ain't it?" Glen sighs as he looks at his brother truly concerned about the boy. Something is wrong with him, something about the fact of his and Mark's past has set the kid off like this, and he wishes he know what it was. Mark stands from his stool walking over to the young man, who backs up a bit, before letting the big man get close shivering a bit as Mark lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, his names Kane. It got changed to Glen when he was adopted." He glances back to his brother, "Kane's not really a very popular name among most people."

The older Hardy, who had been sitting stunned when his brother hand retreated from his attempts to easy him, starts to look back and forth between Mark and Glen, as are the other two still on the couch, realization finally dawning on them. "This isn't a joke, you're telling the truth Paul? Shawn?" Glen speaks up as he moves to take Mark's seat, "Yeah they re telling the truth." John looks to Glen, "But why lie about it, why keep it a secret? Seems to me, it would just help solidify your gimmicks if people knew you two were real brothers." It's Flair that speaks up in answer to that one, "Because then people would start to wonder if that was true, what else about their story was true. You see how this is affecting Jeff there and he's in the business. Imagine how the fans would react knowing that a wrestler…." He decides, wisely, not to finish his statement. "Go on say it," Mark's says, between pursed lips, "I murdered my mother and father and nearly killed my baby brother."


	14. Enigmas Exposed

**Disclaimer: **Names and stuff ain't mine, save what I came up with.

**A/N: **_Well that was fast. LOL_

_Not sure how long I will be able to keep this up, but right now, the chapters seem to be flowing like water from my head. I think its the setting and stuff. Things might get harder in the later chapters. But for now, I'm having a ball with this._

_I want to touch on a thing or two. The game of Truth or Dare mentioned in last chapter, I think, will become a story on its own. When I was referencing it, I kind laughed evilly to myself and decided I was gonna write that game out. LOL Not sure when, but I hope to do it at some point, prolly when the block hits me again and I need something to get it going again._

_The other thing is Jeff. Of all the young wrestlers that boy has always fascinated me. He's got his own mystique about him. He's got the why he does what he does thing going that attracts my curiosity. Unlike with Taker and Kane, I have yet to come close to figuring this boy out. (Not saying I know what makes them tick, but I have some ideas and stuff I have found out over the years that paints a clearer picture then I have of Jeff) So there is a good shot he might play a bigger part in this, then I had originally intended. Just don't expect any answers on what makes him tick. He'll be a bigger enigma then Taker ever was. LMAO_

_OK that said I want to thank all those that have read and reviewed, both mean a hell of lot to me and I hope I am providing an enjoyable story to one and all._

_Well enough of that, on with Chapter 14!_

_Enjoy. _

* * *

"Why?" 

Jeff's emotion filled question was so low that, in truth, only Mark heard it clearly, though everyone in the room knew he has said something, as the large man returns his gaze to the smaller man. Glen, seated at the bar, can see the pain and lost look on the young man's face as he gazes back up at Mark and can only wonder at what in this boy's life could have made this revelation seem like the end of the world to him.

Mark continues to looking into the bright green eyes of Jeff, amazed how the young man seems able to hold his gaze when even the most self assured person he has ever met, could barely do so from more then a minute tops. Mark, his hand still on Jeff's shoulders squeezes it gently, and whispers back so only the boy can hear, "Me and you will talk after this is over. But for now, I want you to go into my room, I don't think you need to hear the rest of this right now." The young Hardy nods slowly, lowering his eyes from the large man before him, as he makes his way past the astounded eyes of the other man, disappearing into Mark's room, pulling the door close behind him. The others in the room, Glen included, wonder what had passed between the two and why Jeff had left without a word. Mark then turns back to the others, "Lets just get through this, I'm getting a headache and it seems my night still has issues to be dealt with." He takes a seat perched on the arm of the couch, as he nods to Paul. "So ask your question."

Paul looks to Shawn then back to Mark, "How much of what Steph said is true?" He runs his fingers through his hair, clearly trying to come to terms with all that he has been told and heard so far, " I mean she said some really wild stuff on the phone, not just about you two being brothers and the fire, right guys?" He says this looking to Flair and Shawn for confirmation. Shawn sighs running his hand over his face in show of frustration, "Look Take, we except the whole thing about the fire, we have to you guys pretty much confirm it, and, to be honest, some of us are not all that surprised." The look he gets from the two brothers makes him hurry to explain himself, "Mark we've all seen your temper and your mood changes, not to mention what happened in 99'. Lets face it, the clues were there." Rick speaks up in an effort to distract the two large men, from Shawn, "Not to mention, you've always given off this brooding aura, lets face it, it's what made your character in the company so believable, cause you embodied the damn gimmick, even in our eyes."

Mark grunts, concluding getting mad at these men would be fruitless, as they are only telling the truth, and trying to come to grips with what they have discovered this night. "I get it, I come off as evil. Not telling me what I don't already know. Now get to the part that is giving you problems." It is John that speaks up this time, "Well I was in the room, for the last part of that call, and what I heard…well I thought it was just Stephanie talking about a new storyline for you and Kane." He laughs a bit nervously as it is clear he is starting to a little nervous, "I mean, she was talking about you talking without moving your mouth and Kane holding fire in his hand. I mean, what does some new special effects have to do with you guys being brothers?" Glen shakes his head as he hears the attempt by Cena to deny what is obvious to Flair, Shawn and Paul. He can't blame the kid; if it were him he'd do whatever he could not to have to believe that he is in the room with two unholy monsters. He groans to himself as he sees his brother's head whip in his direction, he would have to tell Mark to stop reading his mind; he'd like to have his moments of self-denigration every now and then.

"Ok someone better start talking and telling me and Shannon what the hell is going on, what are you guys not saying?" this from Matt, who is now thoroughly pissed off. "Ok fine," starts Paul, who is now, also, fed up, "You guys remember back when we had the Ministry thing going with Take here?" Cena, Matt and Shannon nod that they remember, "Who can forget that?" chimes in Moore, "Whenever I surf the wrestling forums, and Taker gets brought up, it's always the time the fans talking about the most. Why?" Paul continues, "Well you remember when Jim mentioned the whole living your gimmick like, well according to my wife, Taker here, does live his gimmick cause his gimmick is real."

"Real? As in not just the fire and the brother thing?" asks Cena as he looks from Mark to Glen, both of who nod to the look he is giving them. "Oh come on, this has to be a joke." Matt chuckles, "Your trying to tell us you can throw lightening bolts, and you," he points to Glen after indication Mark, "Can set things on fire? Do we really look that we're that gulli…OH MY GOD!" Shannon, Cena and Matt scream as they leap from the couch, nearly bowling Mark to the floor as all three men make a beeline to the far wall, as Glen, wanting to get this over as soon as possible, repeats his performance of earlier in the day before the two McMahons. This time he holds out two hands, palm up allowing two balls of flame to hover in the air above. He looks over to the terror struck trio, "You were saying about thinking you are gullible?" he smirks at the looks in their eyes, as he turns to look at the other three men. Flair has not left his chair, but he can tell the older man is still there, due to being utterly petrified by the display before him. Paul is halfway into the entrance way into the suite, and Shawn must have hopped clear over the bar, cause he is now huddled in the far corner. Sighing sadly he looks to his brother and realizes Mark is not even paying attention to the others in the room, as his gaze is on the doorway to his room, where Jeff hardy is standing gazing oddly at Glen.

Glen goes to extinguish the flames in his hands, but a movement from his brother draws his attention as he sees Mark has held up a hand, indication he should hold on and not move. Turning his attention back to the kid, Glen is surprised to see the boy has started to approach, his eyes never leaving the big man's hands, or the ball of fire floating just inches above them.

For his part Mark never takes his eyes off the young Hardy, ever interested in what he will do next. He seems to have gotten over his, seemingly, irrational reaction to the news of he and Glen's relationship completely enraptured by the sight before him. What truly bothers Mark the most is that he can't seem to hear a thought coming from the young man. Where as his head has been filled with the confused thoughts of all the others in the room, Glen included, this young man's thoughts are missing from the cacophony in his head. He's been able to pick up feelings; this is true, but no clear words, ideas, nothing. "The kids gone from anger, hurt and disappointment, to being fascinated by Glen's display." Thinks the large man as he watches Jeff, reaching out a hand to the flames, "I'd avoid touching it kid, "Mark is quick to warn the young man, "That's real fire, hate to see you burn your hand being reckless."

Jeff lowers his hand nodding, "How are you doing that?" He looks up to Glen questioningly, which has the big man look to his brother completely off balance. He had expected the reaction he had gotten from the rest in the room. Fear was something he was always prepared for, it's been a part of his life since the fire and he knew that the day their secret would come out, that fear would be a permanent companion. Yet here was Jeff Hardy, no fear, just a blazing curiosity not even Glen, with his limited senses in that area, could miss. "God, he's not afraid." Those words in his head elicits a smile, the massive wrestler can't hold back, it is greeted with a matching one from the young man in front of him. "You're gonna keep it a secret?" those words from Jeff, draw a barking laugh from his brother as Glen finally get his wits about him. "No. Its not magic, if that's what your thinking, that's more my brother's area of expertise." He leans in close to the kid, making sure to keep the Flames out of the way, so as not to accidentally burn him and whispers sotto voice, that all in the room can hear, especially his brother, "Don't tell him I told you this, but he's secretly jealous that I'm so naturally talented." He winks at Jeff, who snickers casting a bemused look over his shoulder at the subject of their conversation.

Mark, glad his brother was so good at lifting the heavy mood in the room, smirks, "Yeah, a natural pain in my ass." A strangled cough draws his attention to wall near Glen's room door as John, Matt and Shannon are losing their battle to not just fall over laughing. A quickly look to the other three men, show that they too have relaxed a good deal. Shawn has even moved back on to the bar to get a better look at the flames in Glen's hands. "Want to put those out, before you set the room ablaze, O' Mr. Natural?" Glen chuckles and quickly douses both flames. "So all that stuff was true? The whole storyline Bill was pushing for as an angle all those years ago?" Asks an amazed Shawn, "Why would you even want to use that for a storyline? I mean, it's not the happiest of angles, pardon me for saying" Pipes in Paul, looks to both brothers. Glen's jaw works a bit as he responds, "Cause my father is a prick and wanted to hurt Mark once he realized he had lost control over him."

"Wait!" breaks in Matt, "Your telling us that even that part was true? Bill really is Glen's…um…Kane's?" He looks to over to Glen, unsure what to call him now, "Glen, its my legal name, Kane's my birth name and I prefer, unless we are working or around fans, for only my brother to call me that." Matt nods, hearing the implied threat loud and clear, "So you're saying that Bill really is your dad? Then that means that he real…." He stops as he sees the look Mark shoots him, "I would not continue that line of thought." Matt nods looking anywhere but into those intense pale green eyes of the big man. Glen knows that, even to this day, the circumstance of Glen's birth is a sore point with his brother, to the point he wonders if Mark would have been as excepting of him as a child, if he had known back then. It's the one stain on his brother's recollection and love of their late mother. At least this has been Glen's assumption for why Mark will not even discuss it, Even with Glen.

Shawn, nosily slips off the bar, drawing the attention of the other men as he walks over to the bottle on the table refilling the glasses. "Ok so I take it I'd be right that our beloved employer has plans on using this in the show?" With the topic turned from Glen's conception and directed at the well know greed of Vince, Shawn is somewhat successful in easing the tension that had been building up in the room. Glen shrugs as he snags a glass from the table, ignoring the look his brother gives him, "Hey, you can pretend you don't want a drink, but right now I could use a mess of them." He sits back down and nods to Shawn, "Yeah. At least that is pretty much what we figure." He takes a sallow of the strong liquid, "We would have preferred to keep it secret as long as we could, but things just seemed not to work out that way, like how you guys ended up finding out." He suddenly frowns as he looks to Mark, "It is kinda funny how that seem to happen on the tails of what you had said." Mark eyes narrow a bit as he seems to go into deep thought. He then looks to the other men in the room. "I checked the schedule, Raw's house show is in Philly and Smackdowns in Nebraska, what are you guys doing here?"

Paul shrugs, "The Raw show got cancelled due to a tornado alert, and from what I was told by Matt and Shannon, the arena that Smackdown was supposed to be in got flooded somehow. "Mark frowns, "What do you mean flooded?" Matt scratches his head, "Got me, all they told us is that the place was flooded and there couldn't be a show. So most the guys that did not live nearby headed here for the super-show, figured we'd get some real rest before we had to get ready for the taping." Glen coughs on his drink, sputtering as he talks, "You mean you guys are not the only ones here? Why the hell didn't you tell us?" He turns the concerned look to his brother, whose visage mirrors his own, "We can't stay the night, I can't handle having to repeat the last hour again." Mark is about to nod when Paul speaks up, "Don't worry about it you two. If anyone sees you, just tell them you're here to see Vince and are headed back to TX. In fact, Glen you don't say anything and just let Take do his brooding thing, most the guys will not press ya anyway." He chuckles a bit, "After all, if I had not heard what Mark said at the elevator we'd not be here." Glen Smirks a bit, drawing a withering stare from his brother, "Tell me about it. And to think, he's usually so quiet."

So saying Glen, true to his words of being done with the drama of the day, stands, "Ok guys, if ya don't mind, lets call this a night." He pointedly walks to the entrance way to the room, headed to the door to let the others out, "Any thing else you guys are gonna want to know will have to wait till me and Mark get back." He holds up a hand as he sees Rick about to cut in, "Why we are not staying is not something either of us is ready to talk about. Ok. Now toddle off to bed kids." Its fairly clear the other men are less then happy about not hearing everything that is occurring with the two brothers, but they conclude that both brothers are done revealing secrets and they will have to wait like everyone else to know the full story. Still they have more then enough to fill a week of speculations and Paul would not waste time in calling his wife to get more of the story out of her, he sure, now, that she had not told him everything with regards to Mark and Glen.

As Jeff moves to follow the others as they move to leave, Mark moves over to him gently griping his shoulder to hold him in place, "Where you going Hardy?" he turns him around to face him, "Remember I still have something to discuss with you." Jeff looks up to the larger man, uncertainty blazing in his eyes, as he brother also stops turning, "Hey, if Jeff's staying so am I. I'm not leaving my br…." Again tonight Hardy is made to choke off what he is about to say, as Mark flashes him one of his infamous looks. One all in the back knew meant he is at the end of his tolerance of the person before him and that they should find a way to be someplace else but were Mark was now. This look would actually send cold shivers down the spine of who ever Mark was directed the look at, which, till this day, these men would have marked it off as a natural reaction to having such a large man, look at you with such a cold, emotionless, but deadly gaze. Now, none, especially Matt, is sure if that is the case. He weighs his safety, at this moment, with his concern for his brother, and his own curiosity at what Mark could want to speak to his brother about alone. Survival wins as he smiles weakly, "Um…hey Jeff, we'll catch ya back at the room." Jeff nods his understanding as everyone, now more spooked then they wanted to admit, move quickly from the suite.

"Did you really have to do that?" Glen asks, as he moves back into the room, going about the busy work of cleaning up the glasses and replacing the bottle back behind the bar. "You keep forgetting lately I don't want to come back to a locker room full of guys afraid to even look me in the eye." His brother sighs, he knows Glen is right, he was not thinking and, once more tonight, fell into old habits that, now, would be seen in a far different light then in the past. "_Sorry Glen_," Mark thinks to his brother. He rarely speaks this way with Glen, mainly cause it freaks his little brother out a bit. He only does when he needs, or wants, to communicate with Glen, without others hearing and, even then, when it is of the utmost importance. Right now he wanted to apologize to his brother for his actions as well as explain why he had Jeff remain after the others had gone. Glen was curious and he wanted him to be on the same page when he started to talk to the boy. "_I'm not sure why I keep acting before thinking. Though I do have my suspicions. But that is for later. I need to let you know why Jeff is still here._" He walks over to the couch waving Jeff to follow and take a seat, while he continues to clue in his brother. "_You've been right all this time, I have been able to read thoughts. I've had the ability since sometime after the fire." _Glen who usual does not outwardly indicate he is listening to his brother talking to him in his head,narrows his eyes a bit, luckily he was facing away from their young guest. "_I know you're mad, but we can deal with that later. The point that has this kid still here is that I can't hear_him_." _Continues Mark, knowing he will have a long night of explaining his ability to his younger sibling.

The grunt Glen emits as he sits on the far side of the couch Mark knows is not from his brother settling down, but evidence that his brother is far from pleased with him right now, but will hold off till the issue with the young Hardy was settled. Point is, Glen actually is curious by Marks revelation. Why would this kid who, from all evidence, is about as normal as any other risk taking youth with a death wish. If this kid can block his brother from reading his thoughts, sneaks a peek at the boy frowning as he notes the kid seems to be doing the same to him. "What?" The young wrestler looks away quickly from Glen's frowning countenance, "Um…nothing." Glen growls. He's tired, annoyed and furious, mostly with Mark, he is not up for this kids shy act. "Jeff if you want to stay in one piece you better tell me why your looking at me like I jut grew another head." The kid did not even look at him this way when he had two burning flames in his hands, what had he done now that was so fascinating? Both Glen and Mark are stunned into open mouth shock when the youth responds, "I'd kinda like to know why Mark can't read my thoughts, but more," he looks from Glen to Mark with open confusion tinged excitement, "I'd like to know how come I can hear him clear as a bell right now."


	15. Brotherhood, The ties that Bind

**A/N: **_Geeze looks like I can't stop myself with these updates. LOL_

_Well truth be told this ones a bit short, but again it just felt like the place to stop. A few things I want to address._

_The guy with Paul, when you read his parts, think of some speaking who's breathing is somewhat shallow, as opposed to pauses, its more of a low prolonging of the last sylible. Not like snake hissing or anything, just more breathless. Also, when you picture Paul do not see him as the fat person we last saw him as. As of last report he has lost even more weight and looks so much better. _

_I want to, again, thank all who have read and those that have reviewed the story so far. to those that have commented on Jeff's upgraded presense in the story, I could not help it, as I said, it just seemed to happen. But I find writing about someone who is a bigger mystery to me then Taker, adds a certain excitment to the writing of the story. (Kinda hard to explain)_

_Anyway I hope you enjoy chapter 15._

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"What did you just say?" Mark asks, even though he had heard the boy as clearly as his brother. Jeff, now wondering if should have kept that revelation to himself, hesitantly repeats what he had just said, "I…uh…I can hear Taker talking, when he's thinking." He looks very uncomfortable; made worse by the looks both brothers are giving him. "I…I did not mean to, I don't even know how it's happ…" he is cut off as Mark raises a hand, "Calm down kid. Sorry if we're sacrin ya." He looks to his brother slightly shifting his eyes away, hoping his brother gets the hint. Mark smiles inwardly as he sees Glen stand and yawn dramatically. "Ya know what, as much as I would love to know more, I'm beat." He pats his brother on the shoulder, as he nods to Jeff giving him, what he hopes is, a reassuring smile. "Don't let my bro scare ya anymore then normal. He means well, he just has this block that prevents him from not being insensitive to other people." He smiles as Jeff snorts trying not to laugh. "Just go to bed, before I kick your ass." Mark remarks as Glen turns and disappears into his room watching as the door closes behind him.

Turning his attention back to hardy Mark leans back in his seat, templeing his long fingers in front of him as he settles his elbows on the chair's armrests. Mark has to admit to himself he has no idea where to start with Jeff. Despite all the outlandish tales he has heard are written about him in online stories, Mark does not deal a lot with other supernatural beings. He has dealt with a few, but such things do not take up every waking hour of his life. Nor does he spend long hours pouring over ancient tomes secluded in some darkened basement; that is Paul's forte. Mark has made a point of living a normal life. He does possess knowledge, have no doubt, but he is not as well learned in the area as one might think.

His pale green gaze slowly slides over the young man sitting nervously before him. For as long as he has know the two Hardys, neither has exhibited signs that they were anything but normal human beings. They have never shown themselves to be psychic nor possessing abilities such as his brother has. Yet here he sat with a boy claiming to be able to do something not even Kane…Glen…. who is blood to him and can, at times, sense Mark's presence, can do. Is there a connection to this kid that Mark was never aware of? Maybe they had a distant blood relative in common? He quickly discards that notion. If there were anyone of Mark or Glen's blood running around Paul would have known and drawn them into his twisted schemes long before this.

Mark starts to notice the young man is fidgeting as he sits, waiting on the big man to say something. "Stop fidgeting, I'm trying to figure out what is going on here." His words come out sharper then he had intended, but this was Jeff Hardy and it would take more then an unintended tone to faze him, much. "I can't really help it Take," Retorts the smaller man, "This is kind of freaky, even for me." The large man nods, "Yeah, has me a bit unnerved as well, I'll admit. Till today, the only one that could hear me mind talk, are those I allow," he slowly runs a hand over his goatee, "but what I just did wasn't even that, it was a special link between me and Ka…Glen, no one has ever been able to hear it, even when I have tired to share with others."

Jeff glances to the door that leads to Glen's room, "You and him are pretty close huh?" he looks back to Mark, "Even after the fire, you two found a way to forgive." Mark chuckles a bit, "I would not go so far as to say forgive or forget for that matter." It's Mark's turn to look at the door to his brother's room, "It just got to a point, for Glen, where he wanted family more then he wanted revenge. So he became open to putting aside the past and getting to know me for who I am now, as opposed to the boy I was." Mark stands moving to the bar, snagging a vitamin waters tossing another to Jeff, "Not that it was easy. I kept messing up, he kept messing up, and we'd both over react to some implied threat or insult." Retaking his seat he chuckles a bit as he opens the bottle and takes a quick swallow, "I think me and him have had more onscreen swerves and turns then there have ever been, in the history of wrestling. The fans blame the writers, of course." Sighing he settles back in his chair, "But this time, its has nothing to do with them. Still right now, we're ok. Closer then we've ever been, I think we've finally gotten over the hump." Mark looks to the boy on the couch and sits forward as a thought hit him, "Family's a big thing with you ain't it kid?"

Jeff, who had been running a finger along the top of the water bottle while listening intently to Mark's explanation about his and Glen's relationship, is momentarily stunned by the change of subject. He quickly recovers as he sets the bottle on the table. "Um…why do you ask?" Mark realizes the boy is hesitant to go into discussing his own family situation, grunts letting the boy know he is not going to play games with him. Jeff sighs as he rolls his eyes starting to focus on other features in the room as he talks, "Yeah I guess," he shrugs a bit, "family's important a lot where I grew up. Me and Matt check in with our dad as often as we can." He stops there picking up the bottle opening it and taking a very long swallow. Mark waits for the boy to continue but it is clear he is not going to say any more, without some pushing.

"So you and Matt are really close huh?" There it is, what Mark was looking for. It was quick and the boy suppressed it almost the second it rose up, but Mark caught it. "So there are issues between the two." Mark thinks, not worried that the boy can read his personal thoughts, only the ones he transmitted to others, "It would explain his reaction to hearing about me and Kane's past." He sits back taking another swig from his water, "Ok boy lets stop dancing around the issue here. What's up with you and your brother?" Jeff's head snaps in Mark's direction, "How…how did you…. there's nothing wrong between…."his words are gut off as Mark growls low in his throat, "Boy, I have not had much sleep over the last few days. I'd like to be doing what my bro is, and getting some, before we have to be back on the road again, so stop wasting my sleep time and tell me what's going on between you two." He softens his voice a bit feeling the young man is about to break down, "Look kid, I want to help ok?"

Jeff sets his bottle down and sighs resignedly as he folds his hands in his lap, his eyes locked on the floor or his feet; Mark can't be sure. "It's not like we are not getting along or nothing like that. We still have fun and stuff; well when we are together." He looks up into Mark's eyes, and the big man is taken aback by the lost look in Jeff's own emerald eyes. "It's just that, its more cause he has to, cause we're the "Hardy Boyz"," he does the two finger in the air motion as his eyes roll, returning to looking at the floor, "You remember when we first got split up? Him to SD and me to staying on Raw?" Mark knew it was only partly a question, and more just a statement, so he does not reply letting the boy continue, "Well it was then I realized how different me and him really were. Matt loves wrestling, like nothing else. He lived and breathed it, like nothing else. Me…" Mark sees the edges of the boy's lips curl up slightly, "I like it well enough, it lets me do stuff I love doing, like jumping off of stuff and the like. But I had other things I liked to do as well. Wrestling was like riding my dirt bike off a ramp, or playing with my band. It was just a fun thing to do that got my adrenaline going." He glances back up to Mark, "The fans too, I loved seeing them and all, seeing they liked what I was doing. Is it like that for you?"

The large man was to ready for the question, not ready to be drawn into the boys discussion. But it was a question he gets asked a lot, even by other wrestlers. "I really can't tell ya why I do it kid." It was a very honest answer; which gives Mark pause. In the past, when asked this very question, his answer was almost always, that he did it cause he loved it, and he loved entertaining the fans. He always kept it to himself that he was not sure why he would subject his life to this. Why he opted, years ago, to give up a dream or playing basketball to train as a wrestler. It was no secret to those around him, from family to coaches that he had what it took to be a great basketball player, yet when it came down to picking one of the other, he turn his back on the legitimacy of one sport, for the somewhat questionable existence of a professional wrestler. To this day, he cannot say why; and he has never admitted that to anyone, not Paul, not Kane; no one. Yet here he was, confessing it to a kid he barely knew; something was amiss, he could feel it now.

"Kid, head back to your room. Get as much sleep as you can, I want you up here by 9." Jeff looks at Mark confusing evident in his eyes, "Why? I though you wanted to talk to me about how I acted before?" Mark stands, not really ready to go into what was bothering him right now. He needed a full nights sleep, or, at least, what he would be able to get, to deal with tackling this mystery. "Boy, just do what I said. Now get and don't be late, we're leaving early, before the guys wake up." Jeff, seeing Mark is not in the mood for anymore discussion stands up and walks to the door, followed closely by Mark, as he steps up, he must have realized something, cause he stops and turns around his eyes wide, "What do you mean 'we're leaving'?" Mark just closes the door on the boy's bewildered face. "Damn it, nothing is ever easy in my damn life." Mark grumbles as he makes his way to his room, stopping when another voice fills the room, "Want to tell me why he's coming?"

Mark turns seeing his brother standing in the other doorway. "Because I have a feeling everything that happened tonight did so for a reason." He sighs and leans against the door yam as he crosses his arms over his massive chest eyes down in thought as he continues, "Me talking out loud about not having to lie to the guys about why we were here. Jeff and his brother being on the elevator at just that moment or the reasons everyone was here in the first place." Glen, mirrors his brother's stance, "You thinking this was not a coincidence? You think something was working to set things up so you find out Jeff can hear ya projected thoughts, even when you don't want him too, or that you can't read his?" Mark shrugs then nods, "There has got to be an explanation Kane. Add to the fact I've been damn near an open book to the boy, telling him how I really feel about being a wrestler." He looks over to his brother, "I've never told a damn soul that, it's a personal quandary that ani't no body's business but mine, yet I just spill my guts like he was closer to me then you." Glen smirks, "Glad you said that big bro, I was starting to get a bit jealous hearin you tell him something you never ever told me. Ya know, I think your right, there is something going down." He runs his hand over his head, "Think its Paul, trying to get us back on the road?" Mark shakes his head, "Nah, Paul would not want as much of the truth that got out today to be revealed. No his hand is not in this, and I don't think his 'friend' has a hand in this either." He shakes his head again, "No, something else is at play here." He sighs, returns to standing fully, "Anyway, Kane we need to get what sleep we can. The boys coming with us, for now." He turns to head into his room, "Hey Mark." He stops as he hears his brother's voice once more, "What's with you callin me Kane? I know I said only you could do it when we're not working, but that was just for the boys. You don't have to stop callin me Glen ya know." Glen frowns when he sees the look Mark gives him, "You do realize you were callin me Kane, all this time right?" Mark brow furrows, "Since when?" The younger man shrugs, "Since you started talking to Jeff alone, you corrected yourself twice, then just stopped, hell you've called me Kane twice during our conversation just now."

At this moment in a house in Salem Alabama, Paul Bearer is cursing a string of obscenities. "Where the hell are they?"

For the last 12 hours, the squat southerner has been trying to view his son and Mark, through his pool, yet all he has seen is a murky mist obscuring all form his sight. This has put the pulp schemer in a bad mood; a mood that seems to be shared with his enigmatic accomplice. "You…. said…. you…. would keep an…eye…on them." The normal coldness in the voice is tinged with anger, "If…. my…. plans…. are jeopardized by…. your…incompetence…. your…. pain…. will be…unimaginable." Paul turns his attention to the darkned corner where his guest resides and nods quickly, giving off a nervouse laugh, "Oh don't worry, I will track them down I assure you. Besides," he laughs once more, this time with a bit more confidence, "they are still under compulsion and my control, my son and Mark will do as they have been told. Mark knows what is required and he will bring them back to us. I assure you."

Suddenly Paul becomes aware of sounds throughout his library, As if things are shuffling about in the dark beyond the limited lights of the candles, "You…had…best…hope…what you say…comes…to…. past." comes the response from the shadows, "As…you…. remember…. I am not…. a…. patient…. being. And…. I…have…. forgiven you once…. for…your…failure. I…shall not…do…so...a second...time." The threat is not lost on the ex-mortician, as he prays that he can regain contact with the two brothers, and soon.


	16. Inner thoughts, Outer Influence

**Disclaimer: **Only think I get out of this is enjoyment Not sure you can put that in a bank.

**A/N: **_New chapter for all you lovely ppls. Again thanks for all those reading this story._

_On little point, please do not assume the personalities I am protraing here are who these men and women actually are. this is a work of fiction and I am just presenting them in the context of the story. Ok, I'll admit, maybe one or two of them are colored by my own percption of their on screen personas. LOL_

_Anyway, here is chapter 16 enjoy. _

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Ric Flair and Shawn Michaels sit facing each other in the rather lavish living room of Hunter Hearst Helmsly's hotel suite. The room is on par with the one they had just left, with a few added amenities; such as a kitchen area and sunken gaming area with a pool table. Normally the pool table would be seeing use about now, as Shawn is an avid player and in house hustler, but both men, at the moment, are lost in their own thoughts. Each sips absently from their bourbon filled glasses never making eye contact, or glancing at the other man in the room; the man currently yelling into his cell phone. 

"Damn it Steph I want to know what the fucks going on…yeah I know you told me about Mark and Glen…. yeah yeah, I got the whole power thing…yeah I'm not doubting you, what I want to know is what you plan on doi…doi….Steph stop fucking interrupting me damn it……..Fine, I calm dow….you don't know what the matt…" At this point the large blond takes the phone from his ear as he paces back and forth, trying, with little success, to gather his thoughts and try to express himself a bit clearer. He knows his wife; he knows this is, now, a very touchy situation. He had to go slow, use his head, or everything he has worked for would go up in smoke because of those two. He puts the phone back to his ear, hearing his wife calling his name, "Yes Steph I'm still here, Shawn was saying something, " he shots his long time friend a look, as he looks up, the older man just smirks and returns to his drink and inner thoughts, "Ok look Steph, all I'm asking is, what you and Vince have in mind…yeah, so he wants to expose this, but slowly…." He looks over to men as they look over to him with renewed interest. "Come hun, do you really think…. how do I say this…do you really think the fans, are ready to find out that these guys real?" He grits his teeth a bit, as his jaw works, an outward show of his growing frustration, "Look Steph I know it sounds like we've just had the biggest media event fall into our laps, but you and Vince have got to think to the long run…yeah hun think…no listen to me…. think about it down the line,' he smirks a bit as he hears the slight uncertainty in his wife's voice. Stephanie is a no push over, he knows that, but she is, in her own way, a very simple person. She does have a mind for the business that, at times, can rival her father's. Paul has learned, though, in the years since getting close to her, how to manipulate her to his thinking. It takes some work and he has to tread carefully not to be caught at it, but in the long run, most times, he gains what he is working towards.

"Down the line, after all the initial shock and hoopla wear off, what will people think about Mark and Glen…yeah now your seeing what I'm saying. I don't want to sound cruel I have to be as blunt as the outsides going to be. They are going to call them freaks Steph and that label will be applied to wrestling and this comp….Steph hear me the fuck out, damnit!…..I'm not calling Mark or Glen freaks, I'm telling you what the media and everyone else is going to call them….their lives will be ruined hun….you add on what has happened in Mark's life….do you really want to….yeah I figured that Vince is hot to do this…yeah, you leave your father to me…hun we are just thinking of poor Mark and Glen, this does not need to go any farther…..I knew you'd see it my way…..I'll see you when you get in….yes….love you." He slides the phone close as he smirks chuckling to himself.

"Paul I'm not sure about this." Michaels sits back observing his friend, "Things are not like they where before. Take doesn't have a reason to hold back with us anymore." It is clear the older man is nervous as he looks to Flair for support with his stance, "I always wondered why he never really pushed much, using his clout with Vince and Steph to veto some of the things that we've done in the past, now it makes sense." The charismatic blond takes another sip from his glass, "He's been dealing with all this other stuff, and probably worried that somehow someone would find out about him and Glen. "Now we know he can…" he is cut off as Ric clear his throat, "That's why Paul here is putting the kibosh on Vince and Steph exposing him. If it all stays between those that already know, then he'll continue to keep a low profile, and our boy there will maintain his hold on things round here." Paul grins down on his mentor as he slides onto a bar stool, "Yep Ric's got it right, as long as Mark's secret stays a secret he stays out of our hair." He reaches over the bar into the mini fridge snagging himself a beer, popping it open and taking a long swallow, "Anyway, this is just a stop gap really, just allowing me to set things up, so that when Vince finally does go public with this, we are the ones in line to benefit." He takes another swallow as he slids off the stool, seeing the sour look on Shawn's face, "Oh lighten up buddy, this has been a very good night. WE just got some hot blackmail material laid in our hands as well." Both his friend look at him confused as Shawn sets the glass down and turns fully to face the tall blond. "Are you insane! Blackmail Take? After what we just found out?" He stands walking around his chair to look Paul in the eye, "This man, just revealed he has magical powers, his brother can start fires at a whim. I don't want to end up like their parents Paul, leave this be man." Paul laughs as he pats Shawn on the shoulder then grips it tightly, gazing deeply into the eyes of the man he had once tagged along behind to get noticed in the company, and who is now his tag-along. "Those freaks don't scare me Shawn, never did, never will."

Shawn, in response to his friend's words and actions, pushes the man's hands away and heads for the door turning around at the last minute, "Fuck you Paul. I want nothing to do with this." He sighs sadly, "I did a lot of shit I am not proud of now. I never thought being your friend would now rank among them." He opens the door and speaks the last time before leaving the other two men alone, not turning about as he exits. "Those two freaks, as you call them, have always been good to this company and to this industry. I used to hate Take for what he made me do back in 98; but came to see it was for the best. I'm not doing anything to hurt him or Glen. Oh and don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone about what your planning. I still have to work here." On that he closes the door on the two impassive faces in the room.

Ric downs the last of this drink and stands, "You think he'll go running to Mark?" Paul finishing the last of his beer shakes his head, "Nope, like he said he has to work here, and Shawn's always been the pragmatist." He walks to the door to let the older man out, "He'll do his usual soul searching, pray for forgiveness and be right back here tomorrow. But," he taps Flair on the shoulder to get his attention, as the older man is about to leave, "lets leave him out of any more discussion dealing with Mark and this issue. Don't want to take a chance on his conscious finally kicking in." Flair nods waves a silent goodbye and heads down the hall to his, own, private room.

In another smaller suite the other three men from the earlier meeting sit silently looking at each other.

John Cena, who was, oddly, not invited to join Paul, Ric or Shawn back at Paul's room, had asked the other two young wrestlers to come to his suite for a last drink. In truth the last few hours have unsettled the current WWE champion. His middle class upbringing could never prepare him for what he has learned this night. Magic, for him growing up, was the funny dressed man pulling handkerchiefs out of his ears and producing doves from under a dome. Magic, the occult, stuff like that were just the fantasies of books and movies. He wasn't even a big horror movie fan. Yet here he was, his whole world set on its ear, by two men he once admired and idolized. He's no longer sure how he feels concerning Taker and Glen.

In contrast to Cena's mental and emotional upheaval, the other two men are amazed and excited by what has been revealed to them.

Shannon Moore has been something of a wild spirit all his life, so his association with Matt and Jeff, has always made sense. Never to have a closed mind, like his two friends, Shannon was always willing to try something new, daring or foolish, just to feel the rush that, to he and his friends, meant they were alive. It might be the one defining and bonding thing about these three men, their need to feel alive.

Matt thought brought a different dynamic to the trio, in that he also had a driving ambition. He lived to be a wrestler; he lived to be on top. In away his needs for excelling nearly rivaled that of the muscular blond married to Stephanie. Yet unlike Paul, Matt would not use, or hurt, others to gain his place in the sport. Unfortunately it does make him blind to the needs of others. He can be unaware that what he might see as a new opportunity to get ahead might mean hurt to someone else close to him.

Still Shannon and Matt are excited at the new possibilities Taker and Glen's revelations might hold for the company, for wrestling and for themselves.

"You realize if this goes over well, we might be able to change our gimmicks a bit, play up the extreme again." Shannon says looking to his friend, "I'd sure love to get out of this cowboy crap they have be doing, nothing ginst Jimmy, but this gigs going to die with a resounding thud sooner or later." Matt nods, "It should give us a chance to bring some of the old attitude back into the mix. I might get them to resume the feud with me and Mont, but take it to another level, maybe even turn him face and I could be the heel, get all jealous of how the fans were starting to cheer him, claim I was the one that got him all the fan attention." Matt smiles slightly at the chance of finally being noticed for what he can do, as opposed to what others can do. He hates to think himself bitter, its hard to ignore being ignored and leaped over by new guys with far less time then him, and nowhere near his ability or fan appeal. "Hey we could be the new Brood again, with Jeff or Acolytes, join up with Taker or something, that would really be cool." Shannon lifts his arm to look at his watch, "I wonder what Take wanted with Jeff anyway." His friend pulls his arm over to get a look as well and frowns, "I don't know, but maybe we should head back to the room, I want to find out what was up with him and all the yellin at Take. I mean what a great way to get on the bad side of a guy that could turn you into a toad." Shannon nods getting up, both men waving absently at John, who neither had noticed had taken no part in their conversation and still seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. "Do you really think he can do that?" The door closes preventing John hearing Matt's response, thought it most likely would not have registered with the preoccupied wrestler.

As Matt and Shannon head to their room they note Ric walking towards them from the opposite direction. As he comes abreast of the two younger wrestlers Ric, gives a short wave, intending to continue his journey to his room and some sleep. "Hey Ric, mind we ask you something?" The older mad stops not surprised when the young man continues, "So what's your take on what we heard tonight? Do you think Vince will expose Take and Glen?" Ric sighs leaning against the wall putting his hands in his pockets and lowering his head to as if in deep thought. The truth of the matter Ric was as concerned with Vince doing this very thing as Paul was. There is too much of a chance this would swing the balance of power in the WWE from Paul to Mark and Ric had, pretty much, tied his future to that of the ambitious young Canadian. He also knew he could not leave it all up to Paul to deal with this issue. He had to find a way to make the revelation of Mark and Glen's powers to the public such a negative Vince would never ever think of doing so. Paul thinks this can be accomplished through manipulating his wife. Ric knows that is iffy at best. Stephanie, if she were to come to the conclusion that the benefits to the company would increase with exposing Mark and Glen, she would be a force no words from her husband could contain. No, something so undeniable would have to be presented to the McMahons, to show them that this is one secret that needs to be kept from public eyes.

Realizing that the two young men have been waiting patiently for him to speak he quickly clears his voice, whatever he comes up with, he knows he has to have no connection to it. "Well boys, I'm not sure." He says as he looks up to the two men, "Its still kinda of hard getting my head around the fact that Glen and Mark are actually related as brothers, or that whole fire thing was true." He sighs somewhat dramatically, "Mark's been a friend for some time, even before he or I came to work for Vince. Hard to imagine that he had set fire to his family, let alone to find out that he and Glen really do have magic powers." Pushing himself off the wall he continues, a plan formulating in his head as he speaks, "You boys think this will help the company don't ya, get you boys more chance to do stuff to get you more noticed and TV time huh?" Both men start to look guilty as the older man speaks, amusing Ric to no end, yet he hides this fact from the two young wrestlers in front of him putting on a somber façade. "You boys need to think about Mark more and less ya selves. Mark and Glen getting more exposure might mean more pushes for guys they like, but think of them. Such exposure would turn those two boy's lives into a livin hell. Not a second would be their own." He again sighs deeply, "Mark's already lost his family, think of the media circus his life would become." Both boys look down, each feeling ashamed of their, perceived, selfish thoughts. Both men inwardly chastising themselves for not thinking of the men and what this would do to them.

Ric Flair could not be happier as he sees the hopeful looks in their eyes dim. He is not fool, he knows in time they will go back to their original excitement concerning the possibility of the public finding out, but now it will be tempered, and they might even add their voices, when the time is right, to what Ric hopes will be a very dissenting locker room. "Well boys this old man needs his beauty sleep. Night." He waves to the two young men as they smile and head on their way. As Ric moves further along the hall nearing his door, he smiles as he hears two faint clicks behind him. Ric is happy he was able to curtail the enthusiasm of Matt and Shannon, but, in reality, his words where not really meant for them. Flair knows that the only way to keep Mark and Glen's secret from getting out is for Vince to see that it would be disastrous for the smoothness of the company. Vince can handle a few disgruntled employees, but if his whole roster were up in arms over something, then it would give the owner pause in his action. Ric knew he had to let this secret out, if he wanted it held in. And the best people to find out are those with something to lose. Men like the two he had noticed had been listening in on their conversation from behind cracked doors. Two men that would have more to lose if Mark were to finally take his place as the face of World Wrestling Entertainment.


	17. A Plan reworked A Promise issued

**A/N: **_Ok this chapter is done and I'll tell you I had a time with it. Never try and write when your head isn't in it. I think part of this one might come off a bit disjointed, or the flow is not down. Can't be sure, just feels off to me. You guess decided. (no that's not a subtle call for reviews it means you guys decided what you think, I just hope it's not too bad. LOL)_

_As usual I want to thank all that have read or reviewed the story. I hope its entertaining to some degree._

_Now on to Chapter 17! _

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"KANE GET THE HELL UP!" 

Glen, who feels like he had just laid his head on the pillow, is jolted awake by the sound of his brother booming hoarse voice. "What the fuck Mark are you crazy?" Glen takes a quick glance at the bedside clock, "Man its only 6, thought we were leaving round 9." It's at this point that glen becomes acutely aware his brother is in a state he has never seen or felt before. Mark's eyes were wide and in them the younger sibling saw panic. Glen wondered what the hell could panic his brother to the point where Mark could not even hide it.

"Mark calm down what happened?" Glen speaks as calmly as he could as he quickly rises, readily aware that, even thought, he has to get his brother calm enough to tell him why their plans have been changed and what has him worked up, whatever is wrong must be serious and he needed to be ready.

Glen quickly moves to the bathroom to splash water on his face, in an effort to hasten the awaking process. "Come on Bro, what's going on?" Mark, when Glen returns from the bathroom, toiletries in hand, is pacing back and forth, another sign to the younger man that whatever is wrong can not be minor. Seeing his older brother is not going to talk without some prompting Glen dumps the things in his arms on the bed and moves to grab his brother by the shoulders, shaking him violently while increasing the heat of his hands, in hopes of shocking his brother back to the here and now. His actions seem to work, as Mark frowns a bit, shaking Glen off as he takes in a slow calming breath.

"Sorry, lost my head," the large man runs long fingers through, at the moment, unkempt auburn hair, "The thoughts, I can't block them out." Glen shakes his head completely a t a loss for what his brother is talking about. "Thoughts? What thoughts? Mine or the kids?" Mark quickly shakes his head, jumping a bit when there is a hurried knock at their room door. Now Glen is truly concerned and is starting, himself, to grow nervous. Mark just jumped as if his panicked state had yet to subside. Then his brother sighs and moves out of Glen's room calling back, "It's Hardy and I wish it was just you two I was hearing." At this point Glen knows he will not get anything coherent out of his brother, till they are all ready to go, so he sets his mind to packing away all his clothing quickly into the luggage mark had picked up yesterday. Rolling them out of the room he sees the young Hardy, his brother and Shannon standing with Mark near the entranceway. All three looked as if, they too were unsure what was happening.

"Taker want to tell me why my brother is heading out with you and Glen?" Glen could hear the concern in the older boy's voice and can understand this was not a normal situation. "Yeah Take, you said to be here at 9, then you call me up at 6 yellin that I had to be ready and up here right now. Did something happen?" Glen moves to join the other 4 turning his attention to his brother also wishing an answer. Mark realizing not answering would just delay them closes his eyes, working hard to shore up his mental defenses so he can make sense to those around him. "None of you spoke about what we told you here last night right?" All three, shake their heads, indicating they had not. "Well somehow it got out…" he is interrupted as Glen's booming panicked voice booms over his, "How!! Someone had to tell!" The large man turns enraged eyes on the three young men near him, causing them all to back up quickly in fear. "No Glen, I believe them, I can hear them, except Jeff here, they did not say anything." He gains looks at the boys, "Did you guys discuss this at any point where someone might have over heard you?" At this Mark sees the conversation both Matt and Shannon had with Ric. "When you talked to Ric about it, was there anyone else around?" Both young men blink in shock, "How'd you know…" Mark cuts off Shannon, "That's not important damnit, was there anyone around?" Matt seeing his young friend is about to bolt speaks up, "No Taker no one was around. Ya got to believe we had noting to do with anyone finding out!" Mark looks to Glen sighing, "I got woken up with multiple thoughts filling the hotel with us as the subject matter, when I concentrated I realized almost all the guys in the hotel right now know about us." As if saying this has finally drained the large man of all his energy he slumps heavily against the wall near him as his eyes drop to gaze at the floor. "Its not good. Almost all of them are either afraid, or angry." His brother frowns, "Angry? What do they have to be angry about?" All in the room are aghast at what Mark says next, "They think we plan on taking over the company and pushing only those we like. They're afraid that they'll be forced into supernatural gimmicks and the like. The religious guys think we'll start promoting satanic story lines and pushing anti-Christian angles.

To the shock of Matt, Jeff and Shannon, they watch as Glen drops his luggage, the enraged fire dying in his eyes as he slides down the bar, his head dropping into his hands. As they watch stricken the older man's whole body starts to shake violently, evident that he is crying silently in front of them. All three are at a loss as to what to do. Here before them where two of the most self-assured men they have ever known. One seemed to have completely given up, his shoulders and body slumped in defeat and the other, weeping silently. They can only guess what this news must be doing to them. If what Mark said was right, the whole of the WWE locker room was against them. All three looks to Mark as he speaks once more, it is far easier to then to continue to watch Glen break down in front of them. "Freaks. That's what most of them are calling us." A lone tear seems to escape the tight hold Mark had had on his emotions, "I…I never thought how much that word would hurt, if I ever had to hear it in real life." Mark is drawn out of his self-pity, as a hand lands gently on his shoulder. He looks up into the intense brown eyes of Matt Hardy, "You're not a freak and neither is Glen Taker. Fuck what everyone is thinking, once you talk to them they'll come around." He looks back to his friend Shannon who nods his agreement. They both look to Jeff who has kneeled down next to Glen, who still seems wracked with crying. The young, shocks his brother, his friend and even Mark who is silently watching, as he wraps, as best he can, his arms about the board torso of the distraught older man.

The young man says nothing; he just maintains the embrace, feeling the large frame of Glen, shuddering slightly with the contact. The tableau of the two men lasts for a few minutes as Jeff feels Glen's trembling slowly subside. Suddenly Jeff feels a large hand on his shoulder. Looking up he sees Mark looking down on him, he is amazed at the change in the large man's eyes as the lost look he had look in them, just a few moments before have been replaced with his usual cold gaze. The short nod from Mark signals Jeff to release his hold on Glen. He stands and steps back as Mark takes his place, embracing his younger brother pulling him close.

"_Come on Glen, you can't quit on me now bro." _Mark is well aware that Hardy can hear his words, but it is something he cannot worry or think about at this point. He has to reach Glen, he has to make the other man know things are not as lost as he, himself, had felt only few moment ago._"They are only getting half the story, reacting to unsubstantiated fears." _He allows his brother to hear the humor in his next words; "_I mean I'm not planning any satanic rituals anytime soon, are you?" _ Mark is relieved when he feels Glen's ever-ready sense of humor rise to the bait of his mental comment. _"Well the thought of sacrificing my father had come to mind, would have made a great Pay Per View segment." _Both look up, as a snort comes from behind Mark. Both Matt and Shannon are looking at Jeff as if he had just grown a second head. Mark and Glen, work hard to hid grins, as Matt slaps Jeff in the back of the head as he tries to whisper, "Hey, this is not funny man." Matt looks at the two large men on the floor, "Sorry bout that, my brother has no tact." Mark stand offing a hand to his brother to help him up, "No need to apologize for him," he walks over patting Jeff hard on the shoulder, causing the smaller man to bow with each measured blow, "he'll learn some real fast while he's with us." This brings Matt back to the reason he and Shannon where there in the first place, "Bout that, why are you taking him with you, wherever you two are going?" Mark is about to lie to the young man, but then he looks deep into the older Hardy's eyes and sighs. He can't do it, he and Glen have been living with secrets and lies for too long. Now almost all of them have come crashing down on their lives, and are bring distrust and fear with them. This is not the time to build more lies that might come back to bit them in the ass.

"Well kid, seems your brother here, can hear my thoughts when I am talking to my brother." This straight answer takes both Glen and Jeff by surprise, as both were waiting to see what fabrication Mark would come up with to tell to the other two wrestlers. Matt stares at his younger brother with wide eyes, really not sure what to say to that. Shannon is looking on in wonder at his friend, and then grins. "Cool," Is all the small man can say. This clearly was not the reaction Mark had expected, as he looks at the smallest of the three Carolinians. "Well not what I would have expected to hear, considering." The large man turns his attention, as does Jeff and Glen, on Matt to see his reaction; it too is unexpected, "I'm coming too." Mark shakes his head, "No boy your not. Where me and Kane are going is going to be dangerous enough with your brother, I am not prepared to have to look after your safety too." He looks down at Jeff, "I would not be taking your little brother here, if I did not have this feeling he needs to come with us." He is taken aback as Matt moves his younger brother behind him as he steps into Mark field of vision. "I can take care of myself," he sighs softly, "Look Take, Jeff's all I got outside of our dad. If he's going into danger I'm going with him." Matt turns around griping his brother's shoulder tightly, "Lately I haven't been the greatest of brothers. I have not been there when ya needed me, more worried about my own career, then seeing you needed me." He almost whispers the next words, "its bout time I stopped and took care of whats been needing takin care of. That'd be you Skittles." Mark looks to his brother mouthing 'Skittles'? Glen for his part cracks a small smile as the two Hardy brother's embrace.

"Taker either my brother goes or I stay." Mark is about to strangle someone. Completely fed up with everyone around him, more so, for the fact he knows they are running out of time to leave the hotel undetected.

"Find he comes, let just get our of here ok?" Mark looks at Glen as his brother decided to take the initiative on the subject, neither man surprised when it appears that Shannon too intends to come alone. "No!" bellows Mark, "Those to ok, but this ain't no class trip." He walks over to Shannon, "you want to be helpful, you find out who told the rest of the guys, and when we get back, you can let us know who we have to look out for." He looks deeply into the younger man's eyes, "Can you do that?" Shannon who, in fact, really did not want to go, but could not bring himself to abandon his friends, nods slowly, wondering how one man can talk so softly and still instill the fear of death in a person. "Don't you guys worry, I'll find out who's stirin all the guys up." Mark smiles patting the small man on the head then turning him towards the door." Now git, don't want you seen with us, it will blow your cover." Mark winks at the younger man, then waits as he says his goodbyes to his friends and leaves.

"Ok let me get my bag then we go down the stairs…." He holds up a hand as he knows the protest are about to start, "Too much of a chance of someone we know being on the elevator. Once were past the first 10 floors we can use the elevators, ok?" The other two, nod acquiescence as they know that most of the WWE bookings for the hotel will be either on the top floors, or the first floor, solely for security reasons. Mark takes one last look around to make sure nothing has been left, then nods for his brother to lead the way out.

The trip down the stairs did not go completely without incident. About the 20th floor they were confronted by the hotel security, which had, it seemed, noted activity in the stairwells and sent a man to check it out. Quick thinking on the part of Jeff, who told the man they were with the WWE and were changing rooms, and decided to use the stairs for the exorcise. After a few autographs from each of the wrestler, they were allowed to go on their way, but were asked to exit at the next level, due to hotel security rules. Mark was not happy with this, but so not help for it and was willing to settle with, at least, getting halfway to their goal of 10 floors.

Matt chose to peek out the stairwell door to make sure no one was about, before Mark and Glen emerged, the quartet, quickly making their way to the nearby elevator banks, nervously pacing as they waited for one to arrive and whisk them to the lobby. The men's nerves were so rattled, they al jumped, including Mark, when the elevator ding announced its arrival. They quickly piled in, barely waiting for the door to open, Jeff frantically pressing the door close button once all where inside.

When the elevator starting downward there was a noticeable air of released tension, as the four men relaxed for the first time in the last 20 minutes. "Ok when we hit bottom head straight for the side door, don't want to take any chances someone might be out in the lobby early." Comes Mark's instructions, the others nod solemnly. Mark is glad the tow Hardys seem to have their heads on straight, he is still grateful to Jeff for coming up with that quick lie to the hotel security guard. It bothered him slightly that he was slow to find a way out for the group, and decides once they are far away from the hotel and on the road, he would have to try and figure out what is wrong with him. Between his near collapse when he realized how the others wrestlers were taking the news about Glen and him, and the fact he has now caught himself, twice, calling Glen, Kane out loud, he now knows he has a problem. One he is certain is not related to Paul or the situation he and his brother are in at the moment.

They all look up as they note the elevator is nearing the lobby floor, quickly picking up their luggage for faster movement, they hear the ding as the elevator begins to slow down. As the door opens Mark's eyes go wide and he can hear the slight groan from one of the Hardys. Standing before them, blocking their exit from the elevator is Dave Batista and Randy Orton. The looks on either man's face dash any hope Mark might have mustered that these two would be on his and Glen's side.

The look Dave shoots the group is one of utter disgust, but Mark senses and hears more. Dave believes the word going around that Mark would hold down anyone, now that his powers are revealed, that he was not fond of. It was well known that Mark only worked with Dave at the behest of Stephanie, and he was not very happy with the muscled Filipino for what might have been a deliberate attempt, on Dave's part, to exacerbate the injury Mark received right after wining the title at Wrestlemaina. Mark, momentarily, things back to the may pay per view and how Dave would yank and pull on his obviously injured arm and shoulders, showing no real sign he was trying to avoid causing Mark real pain, or making the injury worse.

Glen, for his part, notes the look in the eyes of Orton, and it makes his heart sink and builds on the depression that has gripped him since finding out the reaction of his fellow wrestlers. It is one thing to hear that others he has been friends with for so long feared and distrusted him to the point of hatred, it was another to see it mirrored in their eyes in person. Orton glares daggers at Glen then Mark as he switches his attention between the two brothers. "So where are you two freaks going?" Even Jeff stands stunned at the naked venom in Randy's question.

Matt is quicker to recover from the shock of hearing such disrespect from his fellow wrestler and steps off the elevator, preventing the door from shutting. "Move your ass Randy before I move it for you." He does not wait for Randy to react as he knows the third generation wrestler to be a complete ass and stubborn to boot. He shoulders Orton to the side, given his companions room to move past Dave as well. Mark and Glen, determined to avoid any hostilities had already set themselves to ignore the words of either man, move quickly as the path was open for them, leaving Jeff to bring up the rear behind his brother.

The youngest Hardy is almost clear of the two till he find himself yanked back violent as someone hands grips his hair and pulls. He is thrown off balance and falls backwards onto his butt, looking up to see it is Batista who has his fingers tightly griping his blond locks.

Glen is the first to turn, having heard Jeff's startled grunt as he landed on the smooth tiled floor. The anger that wells up in him draws Mark's attention at the same time as Matt turns, seeing Glen looking back. "Hey leave him alone!" as Matt runs back intending to knock the larger man down and free his brother, he is slammed to the floor as Randy lunges at him from the side. One solid fist to the side of his jaw stuns the young wrestler, enough to allow Orton to get in a few more shots at his colleague. Batista smirks maliciously as he watches the younger man laid several blows into the defenseless Hardy, yanking Jeff back and forth by his hair to keep the other wrestler off balance.

The whole sequence of events happen within the blink of an eye and caught both the two brothers flatfooted. It was inconceivable to them that they should worry that any of their wrestling comrades would resort to out and out violence, especially towards these two innocent boys. Their shock does not last long, and Randy succeeds in getting in no more then 4 blows before he feels himself flung backwards by an unseen force, while Batista finds his feet starting to smolder beneath him. He release Jeff with a strangled cry of fear as he tries, in vain, to stamp out the, as yet, unseen flames he fears will soon engulf his feet then he, himself.

After a few seconds the smoke beneath Dave subside, as Mark rushes over to help Jeff up, moving the young man to gather his bag and move to the exist. Glen follows suit with Matt, propelling the disoriented, and bleeding boy in the direction of his brother, relieved as Jeff back tracks to grab his brother's hand pulling him along behind him. Mark, after seeing Jeff and Matt are safely away, turns his gaze on to the other two men before him. Cold rage light up his pale green eyes with an eerie aura. His voice, when he finally spoke, would never be confused with his exaggerated deep-throated voice when he pretended to be the Lord of Darkness. The power, the darkness and the evil that came through now, froze both men to the spot and gave then reason to regret their previous actions.

"Hear my words and heed them well. When I return all trespasses against me, my brother and those we call friend shall be avenged." He pauses as he sweeps his gaze from Dave to Randy and back, "Remember that, should you seek to do ill on another wrestler in the name of baseless fear." With no other words said, he turns, gathers his luggage and walks towards the back exit. Glen watches his brother leave then turns back to the two frightened men and shrugs. "Don't mind Mark to much he's being overly dramatic again. What he meant to say is," Glen's visage turns neutral as his voice turns cold with a hint of anger, "You two touch another friend of ours and we'll kill you." With that Glen too, picks up his bag and moves to the exit. Leaving the two, now terrified me, exchanging glances before each moves away in separate directions.


	18. Bonds Made, Bonds Broken

**Disclaimer: **Just in case someone forgot, I only own what I own, the the other stuff someone else owns.

**A/N: ** _Well here's the next chapter._

_This one was a bit harder to write then the last one, only because of trying to find the right words and lack of sleep. lol I also debated with myself about ending it where I did. It felt right, but went against what I had planned so was not sure which way to go. In the end I went with my gut and stopped it where I did. I hope it comes off ok._

_I want to thank all those, as usual, for reading and for the review. I want to welcome the stories new subscriber. (I'd metion names, but not sure how ppl feel about that sort of thing. lol)_

_Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoy. On to Chapter 18! _

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By time Glen made it to the outside, his brother had already situated Matt and Jeff in the back seat, and was standing near the open trunk waiting for Glen, who quickly deposited his bag and moving to the passenger side as Mark closed the trunk and proceeded to the drivers side. Once he was in, he took no time starting the car and driving as fast as he could out of the hotel parking lot. 

An hour later found them on the highway heading to the first of the locales they needed to hit in order to fulfill the wishes of Paul and his ally. Every so often Glen would glance behind to the back seat, checking to make sure the two brothers, were ok. Not that they would not be but it seemed to help him cope. In truth Glen blames himself for what happed to Matt and Jeff back at the hotel. Even the reassuring smile Jeff would send his way, each time he looked back, could not lessen, for him, the overwhelming guilt he was feeling; he also knew Mark was also feeling overwhelming guilt over what occurred with Dave and Randy. A bit after leaving the hotel, Mark had made a quick stop at a 24-hour pharmacy to pick up a portable first aid kit and other incidentals they might need. With the kit Jeff was able to patch the wounds Matt suffered at the hands of Orton. It was good fortune that most of the blood came from Matt biting into his tongue and a superficial cut on his right cheek. Most of the damage done to the young man was bruising, of which his swollen left eye was the worse Jeff had to deal with.

The thing that bothered the two Hardys most was the fact that since getting in the car, neither Mark nor Glen had said a word. They both would share a look right after Glen would return his attention back forward. They did not need psychic powers to know the two men in the front seat blamed themselves for what happened. For Jeff the reality of how affected these men were came with the knowledge that Taker had not spoken to Glen using his thought voice. This was the only way Jeff could describe this power Taker had. For Taker not to try and speak with his brother privately, if for no other reason then to comfort him, something Jeff had come to realize was a constant thing with the older man. Taker cared greatly for his brother and spent a good deal of his time assuring the younger man, when he lost his confidence or was worried about something.

Jeff thought back, now that he had come to know these two amazing men a bit better, to the signs that should have clued everyone into the real nature of their relationship. Like at the very start of the Taker and Kane angle, Taker's mood changed, seemingly, over night. The big man went from being more then willing to hang out with the rest of the boys, well his chosen 'crew' as he called them, to hardly venturing out at all after shows. Not that either he or Matt, were really part of that circle, but it was not a secret in the back that Taker had become more reserved and standoffish around that time. Not to the point of losing the respect he had garnered over the years of working for the McMahons. It was more like he was becoming an enigma within the actual backstage. Even among his close friends there were looks at times when Taker would wave one of them off when they would venture to come talk to him while he sat in a corner, seemingly deep in thought.

Jeff remembers it was not long after Glen debuted as Kane that Taker stopped staying in the hotels the company would book for the wrestlers. At times it proved a headache to the guy assigned to wrangle them. It seemed that Taker had a bad tendency of not reporting where he was staying, Jeff now wondered if Taker was trying to avoid running into Glen, now that he was being portrayed as what he really was. The young man wondered what it must have been like for the two brothers. Hating each other, for what happened to their parents. Thought, in truth, Jeff could not imagine what Taker would have to hate Glen for, after all it was Taker that set the fire, he pretty much admitted it up in the room. Yet, in the past, no one in the back could avoid feeling the tension between the two at times. Looking at his brother, who had fallen asleep as Jeff was musing to himself, their infrequent tiffs could never match up to what must have gone on between Glen and Taker.

It was then that a realization hit Jeff and he grin brightly. "Hey, just hit me, me and Matt are not the only real brothers in the company." This declaration brought Glen to turn about with a puzzled look on his face, "Yeah, so?" Jeff, trying not to say the wrong thing smiles and hope this is not taken the wrong way by the man looking at him, "Well now I don't feel so alone, I mean I now have guys I can talk to when Matt's being an ass to me." The young man glances over to his sleeping brother briefly then looks down at his hand his exuberant tone a bit subdued when he responds, "It's not like he is mean or anything like that, but there are times I really need to talk to someone, and Matt tends to be focused on wrestling and his career…." The words seem to just drift off to nothing, as the young man seems to lose the momentum he just had.

Glen smirks and chuckles softly, causing the younger man to look up and meet his eyes, "You want to talk about brothers ignoring ya when they are in their own world then you came to the right place." He inclines his head towards his brother, who has made no indication he is paying attention to the conversation, "My big bro here is the master of being wrapped up in his own world. Once we were racing I tripped over a branch and wrenched my ankle. Ol dark and brooding here, was 1/5 of a mile away, before he realized I was nowhere to be found." Jeff's eyes are wide as he calculates how much time it meant poor Glen was in pain on the ground, "Wow, he came back for you right?" the older man snorts, but it is Mark who answers, "Yeah, after I ran home thinking he had taken a short cut to cheat and win the race." Glen rolls his eyes as Mark continues with a hint of amusement in his voice, "Bet you did not know my brother is a world renounced cheater. Only time he ever won against me, when we were kids, was by cheating."

Jeff's attention is drawn to his left as Glen is clearly about to engage his brother in an argument, as he hears his brother chuckle, "I doubt Glen has anything on my little brother Taker." The older Hardy sits up a bit, then winks at his brother, "I remember one time he bet me he could beat me to a broken down farm about 2 miles from our place. I figured I could win this beat, I knew a few short cuts Jeff didn't know, and it was fair to use them." Matt elbows his brother softly, "So tell the nice men how I lost the race little brother." Jeff sighs sits back and rolls his eyes, "Geeze, it was not my fault you did not check your gas gauge…. OUCH!" Jeff rubs his arm as Matt punched him smirking, "Stop stalling and spill." Jeff mumbles something that makes Glen lean in, "What I missed that." Folding his arms over his chest turns resentful eyes on his brother, "I said, I had adjusted his gas gauge so it read full when he was actually almost empty." Matt smirks, "And why was I almost empty?" Jeff shakes his head getting an evil look in his eyes "Cause I, the smarter of the Hardyz, siphoned out most of it. Not my fault you did not think of it first."

"Now you see what I had to put up with growing up, a little cheating brother that laughed as I came to the farm 1 hour later pushing my bike." Smirked the older Hardy. "I guess all younger brothers are like that when they realize they can't hold a candle to the greatness that is older brother." Mark says as he casts an amused half grin at his smirking brother, "But you have to let them win a time or too, or they end up pouting all the time." He laughs as Glen slaps him along the back of his head, "Hey watch it I'm driving," he yells while laughing, "Don't be upset with me for speaking the truth." Glen's features turn down right evil as he turns a sly eye to the back seat, "You guys want to know about the truth?" both young men look at each other then back to Glen, nodding enthusiastically, as Mark glances worriedly to his younger sibling, "What are you going on about?" Glen turns to Mark and just bares his teeth in a wide grin; never taking his eyes off his brother, "Guess who in this car used to sleep with a stuffed rabbit he called 'Barney'."

Mark's eyes go wide as he looks at his smirking brothers, "GLEN!" he roars, hurriedly remembering he's the one driving as the back seat bursts in to laughter. Glancing in the rare view mirror Mark is greeted with the sight of the two brother writhing on the back seat in uncontrolled laughter, which rises in volume as Glen adds, "Oh did I mention he used to talk to Barney and Barney would talk back?" At this point, Glen, himself, can no longer hold it in and starts laughing as well. Mark, for his part, wonders if he could plead not guilty on the account of annoyance, if he were to strangle the three other men. Still it did not take long before the absurdity of the situation hit the big man and he, himself, starts to join in the laughter.

It takes a few minutes for the laughter to peter out, by then the tension that had been a nearly tangible thing, had diminished. Nothing was said for a while, each man lost in their own thoughts, each grateful for the other threes presence. Glen, who by now had returned to his face forward position, places a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder without looking his way, as Matt mirrors his action with Jeff. Jeff whose irrepressible nature shine forth once more, chimes up, "See that's what I mean. Only brothers could understand what it means to be brothers. I'm glad were not alone anymore." Glen castes a glance to his brother, and smiles, "So am I kid." On the heels of that declaration he adds, "So when do we stop to eat? I'm starved."

As the laugher fill town car sped to the nearest service stop, back at the hotel where the brothers had made their hasty retreat, things were not as jovial.

"How the hell did they find out?"

Paul Levesque paced back and forth in front of his two closest friends, Shawn and Ric. It was not that he was too upset at the turn of events, still he was not happy not knowing how things came to pass. He had become used to controlling everything that happened in the World Wrestling Entertainment and was not happy being blindsided this way. The WWE was his playground, it made him nervous thinking there was another player in the 'Game'.

Shawn sat watching his friend, not at all happy at what he had heard so far. By this time the encounter with Mark, Glen and the Hardys had circulated, not only among the WWE personal, but some of the hotel staff was whispering about some kind of fight that happened in the lobby near the elevators. Luckily, as Shawn sees it, the hotel did not seem to know the full story; no one was ready for the truth to get out, certainly Paul would never be ready for that event ever.

For Ric's part he sat inwardly amused. One thing Paul would have to learn, in time, was to see events, even the ones that are unexpected, as situations that can be turned to his benefit. He also had to realize he could not control everything directly, that always, tends, to lead to mistrust among those you wish to use. Ric had not expected that he and the two young men would be the victims of eavesdroppers, to their discussion, yet Ric was quick to put it to use. He got the word out, among the boys, yet his hand would never been seen in the action. These subtleties of manipulation are still lost on his young protégé. Paul seemed to need for people to know he had a hand in whatever transpired about the company, good or bad. He wanted to be known as a power in the industry. Flair, from personal experience, knew how that could come back to bit him in the ass.

"Settle down boy, what's done is done. Things worked out for the best, even better for what you wanted, didn't it?" Ric watches as Paul slows his pacing to plop down in one of the cushioned seats, "Yeah Ric, but still, I hate not knowing how it happened. Who spilled the beans?" Ric, easily fainting appearing to think over the answers shrugs, "Got me big guy. I saw Matt and Shannon coming from Cena's room, had a short talk with them, and then they headed to bed. I doubt they had time to tell anyone."

Paul's brow furrowed, "Well what about Cena?" Ric again shrugs, "No idea, did not see him, but I have to assume he was in his room when the other two boys left." He leans in lowering his voice, "You think it was him? Personally I doubt it, but you could call him and Shannon up and ask them." Ric knew Paul would not go for that, at this point questioning any of the other wrestlers, would probably get out and might make things too unstable. The last thing they needed was for the boys to start mistrusting each other. "Honestly Paul I say leave things be for now." Ric gets up and goes to pour his friends and himself a drink, walking back to the small gathering setting each down a glass before retaking his seat. "Right now, thinking is how you want it to be. The guys are up in arms over this, thinking, from what I have heard, that Mark and Glen will start taking over, forcing Vince and Stephanie to give them pushes and pushing their friends.' He takes a sip from his drink, "No one's supporting them. Their friends are staying quiet, so they don't get hit with a backlash from the overall feeling among the other wrestlers." He stops and grins over to Paul and Shawn, "Add to that Mark and Glen helping to fuel everyone's fear with that little display of power down in the lobby. Right now, I doubt Vince would even broach the subject of letting out about those two, let alone going ahead with it, without talking to the boys."

Paul looks over to Shawn, it is clear the older man is still not pleased with his friends or the current outcome, "So what's your take on this Shawn?" Shawn looks to Paul then Ric, "My take is that two men's lives have just been turned upside down unnecessary Mark's wife and kids were killed and now everyone he has ever trusted has turned against him and are ready to treat him and Glen, for that matter, like monsters. A few days ago we were all upset for him and his loss, now guys are callin them freaks. Have we all forgotten what has gone down in this man's life?" He slams his fist on the short coffee table and stands barely suppressed anger evident in his voice, "Everyone has forgotten who the fuck Mark is, what he has done for this company, all of his sacrifices, because some asshole is afraid he 'might lose his spot'." Shawn heads for the door turning around one more time spiting angrily at his two friends, "But you two are the worse of the bunch. Sitting there scheming and plotting, worried about who said what to who. Concerned only with maintaining your holds on the company and the boys in the back. Back in the day I was a real bastard, I know that, but this? This would have been beyond even me." He then opens the door; "I'll see you two at the arena" he then leaves slamming the door behind him, leaving the two other man to cast unsure looks between themselves.

In a large suite in another hotel, Vince McMahon is just hanging up his cell phone. He turns to face the other four people seating about the room.

"So how bad is it?" The person speaking is his son Shane McMahon. Shane displays his usual calm. A calm that is a trademark for the young man, even in the most chaotic of situations, the eldest McMahon child seems to be able to always keep his head about him, a trait his father is more then grateful for at this moment. He will need them all to be able to think clearly. "Bad enough" says the elder McMahon as he takes a seat next to his wife Linda, "No one knows who started the rumor, but it grow fast. Most of the guys, from what I'm hearing, are up in arms." He shakes his head, as if what he is about to say is even beyond him to believe, "There's even rumblings for Mark and Glen to be fired, before the public finds out." Sitting back he looks to his wife, whose grim features do not bode will for her response.

"Honestly dear I am not sure what we should do. The shareholders have not gotten wind of this yet, but if they do…" she lets that thought drift off with a shrug, "Mark's been a good employee, a good friend, still we can't have people selling off stock due to fear or whatever. Add to that public opinion could go either way." She comforting hand over her husbands, "At one point I would have thought this would have been the greatest thing to happen to the company, but now, I'm not so sure." She looks to the others in the room, "If his fellow wrestlers could react this way, and some have known him for most of his career. How will the general public react?" She looks back to Vince, "I have no doubt his fans will be behind him all the way, but he has his detractors out there, the backlash, negative reaction and possible press, could impact this company in a way, we might not recover from." She looks to Stephanie now, as she speaks her next words, "I love Mark with all my heart, Glen as well, but if it comes down to this company or them, I have to vote to release them before the damage is done."


	19. Betrayals of Faith

**A/N: **_And another chapter sees the light of day. lol_

_As always I want to thank all those that have taken the time to read, or review the story. One or two are you really are interested in what the deal is with Jeff in the story. You'll have to be very pateint, as yo can tell I take a while to get to a point. And a love a good mystery. lol_

_I have already started the next chapter, but knowing me, can't say when it will be up, I'll admit, for a bit there I was struggling with this chapter, in fact. certain elements were alluding me till this morning._

_Anyway, here is Chapter 19, enjoy!_

* * *

All in the room sat stun for a few moments before anyone could bring themselves to respond to Linda's declaration. Expectedly it was Stephanie that spoke up first.

"Mom what's wrong with you? This is Mark and Glen we're talking about." The look on her face is one of utter disbelief, that her mother could even broach the idea of letting go two the companies top talents let alone the one man that had been loyal to their family for close to two decades. The whole situation had had the young woman in a daze since the talk she and her father had talked to Mark and Glen. For the last few hours since she was still not sure what her father's decision would be but the last thing she expect would be her mother to suggest letting either man go.

She looks imploringly about the room, hoping to find some support for her stance and was dismayed to find eyes shifting from her gaze. "Come on all of you."she stands her voice rising slightly with her emotions, "If we were to abandon them now, how would that look?" She looks to her brother Shane, "Mark is the most solid star this company has. When the fans get tired of Cena, or Paul or Batista, we know we can always put Mark out there and draw them back in and regain their attention." She then looks to John Laurinaitis, mainly known to the fans of wrestling as Johnny Ace, "Even you have to realize the fan will not react well to us just letting both these men go." She is interrupted as Laurinaitis goes to respond, "My guess the fans will wonder why, and move on. Look Stephanie, we all know how you feel about Mark, but you have to look past that. He's just another employee, the difference being he and his brother have the potential to hurt your company." He stands and moves around as he speaks, "Look at the reaction from the other talent, their scared. Look what they did to Batista and Orton. All those two did was try and find out why they were dragging Matt and Jeff out of the hotel and they nearly killed them with these freaky powers of theirs."

It was Stephanie's turn to interrupt him, "But that doesn't make sense, why would they attack Dave or Randy, and why would they drag Matt and Jeff anywhere," she looks to her father, "from talking to them the last thing neither would want was to be seen as freaks, or have the other's frightened of them, right dad?" Looking up into his daughters imploring eyes, to support her, Vince just sighs. Leaning forward he slowly shakes his head, "honey I'm not so sure what's going on with those two." He stands and walks slowly to the window crossing his hands over his chest, "When they told us, all I could think about was what this would do for the company. I really thought everyone would be excited." He looks back slowly, "And yes, I did trust Mark that they meant no harm to anyone, but after what I heard about Batista and Orton, add to that what your husband and Ric told me about Mark attacking them in the hall. I'm just not to sure, he was not manipulating us both somehow."

Stephanie tries to interrupt but is silenced when Vince puts up a hand to forestall her, "What about the Moore boy, Stephanie." He walks over to the back of the couch resting his hands on the back to lean down, "The poor kids scared to death and according to him, Mark also threatened him. He seems sure Mark or Glen had something to do with Jeff and Matt going with them." Sighing the older man returns to his place next to his wife shaking his head, "At this point I can't look past this. We've all been made to see that magic is real, and that it might not be as beneficial to this company as I first thought." He turns to look to his son when there is a knock at the suite door.

Laurinaitis stands and heads to the door cracking it slightly then opening and allowing the new arrival, Paul, to enter. Stephanie greets her husband with a kiss as the others nod theirs. "Honey you have to talk to dad and mom, they are thinking of firing Mark and Glen." Paul sits in the loveseat as Stephanie joins him turning his attention to his father-in-law, "Are you sure that's the right thing to do Vince? Even I have to admit he's a big part of the company and the fans love both of them." He smiles to Steph as she takes his hand his mind working feverishly on how to sound like he is opposed to this, while not ending up changing either of their minds. Vince Shrugs, "Both me and Linda think it's more dangerous to keep them around then to keep them on. John agrees, I was waiting to see what Shane thought." All eyes turn to the elder McMahon child who, till now, has not said a word since his earlier question to his father.

Shane sighs and leans forward placing his elbows on his knees as she looks from one to the other of the people waiting for him to speak. "Mark's an assets we have always been lucky to have. Glen's been a trooper helping out in storylines to push the younger and newer guys. We'd be crazy to let them go, just because the other guys are panicking over hearsay." Stephanie is overjoyed to hear her brother support her side and Paul is inwardly furious, as he knows Shane's opinion still carries more weight with his parents then either Stephanie or himself. John frowns slightly. Then Shane continues to speak, "But, I hate to say it, we'd be crazier not to let them go, when we add on the attacks on Dave, Randy, Moore and Paul here." Shane looks and is greeted with the shocked look that has replaced the joy on his sister's face, "Look Steph I'm sorry, but if we were to ignore them attacking other wrestlers what will that do to the moral of the guys?" he exchanges looks with the others as he goes on, "The roster as a whole would be scared shitless and not be able to trust that we would protect them," he gestures with his hand as if indicating someone that was not three, "Dave and Randy could file against us for what Mark and Glen did in the lobby. It's one thing for them to get hurt in the ring, it's another for them to get hurt by two guys with powers we knew might be unstable." Stephanie's gasp draws his attention back to her, "Come on Steph stop acting naive, you know as well as everyone else in this room, that Mark's always had 'issues'. Issues we've known about and still employed him, then it comes out about his powers and how he and his brother kidnapped two men while attacking two more. Even if we won such a suit the press would be as bad as with Owen or Guerrero." Shaking his head sadly he sits back, "No Steph, this time we have to cut our loses with Mark, and sadly Glen as well. At least that's how I look at it."

Paul can barely suppress the smile he feels wants to emerge at Shane's support of Vince and Linda's decision, while John works at looking solemn, yet Stephanie can nt hide her distress at the sudden turn of her brother's words. But she is a McMahon and she knows when to fight and when it is fruitless. Looking to her husband who turns understanding eyes her way she looks down then to her parents. "So do we do it now, or wait till he comes back? No I have an even better idea, how about we wait till the funeral of his wife and daughters, make it a day of misery for him." With that, unable to stand being around anyone anymore she stands and excuses herself, signaling for Paul to stay indicating she wished to be alone. No one says anything, as she exists the room. No matter what ulterior motive each might have at the moment, they all feel for the young woman knowing how much she cares for Mark. Once she is gone the three men and one woman, discuss how and when they should make the firings known.

As for the young woman in question she heads quickly to her own suite, it is her and Paul's practice to have separate rooms at times, seeing as she has to conduct business with the writers and bookers and he tends to like to stick close to the other wrestlers on occasion. She is very grateful for this practice at the moment as the minute the door closes behind her she has her mobile out and is dialing franticly.

Meanwhile in one of the looker rooms of the U.S. Cellular Arena, several of the WWE employees are gather with their own impromptu meeting. The topic of discussion is easy to guess.

"Man I can't believe this. How could Taker and Glen do that to Randy and Dave?" The incredulous pronouncement comes from the man known as Bob Holly and is directed at 2 others seated in the room. John Bradshaw, popularly called JBL by the wrestling fans, who had called the meeting now taking place and Rom Simmons, once called Farouq. These men had been employed with the WWE when it was once called the WWF, World Wrestling Federation. All three had known both Glen and Mark for more then ten years and each had varying degrees of respect for both. So the rumors and stories going about were causing each no small amount of concern and confusion.

Simmons sits back in the metal folding chair providing in these types of looker rooms throwing his hands up in a show of frustration. The large black man is also at a loss for what he has heard so far, "We all know Taker can have a really bad temper at times. I can believe he'd put both those guys on their assess if they pushed him too far. I'm not about to believe all this mumbo jumbo about 'magic powers' though. As for Glen," he shrugs non-committal, "never could figure out what was going on between those two. One moment they are avoiding each other, or staring daggers behind each others back, the next they are chummy chummy," he waves a hand dismissively, "Eh, I think this whole thing is nuts."

John nods in agreement with his old friend, speaking up in his thick Texan accent, "I'm with ya Ron, I've known Taker a long time, not as long as ya, but a good time and I think we all would have known if he as some kind ah monster." He stands walking over to his travel bag, pulling out his cell then walking back over to the group, "Ah think it's time we get the story from the horse's mouth and stop sitting here letting our imaginations run wild like those kids out there." The others nod in total agreement, but as Bradshaw opens his cell to dial, the door to the room opens and a the large girth of Paul Wight, also known as Big Show, steps in. "Hey guys, you hear what's been going around about Taker and Glen?" Holly, stands and quickly yanks the much larger man in, pushing the door closed and this time, making sure it is locked. "Bout time you showed up, Ah called this meeting for ten minuets ago, what took you so long?" asks John. Paul takes a seat on one of the sturdy metal benches and shrugs, "Just got in to the city, and got the text you left. I didn't even have time to check into the hotel." He leans forward with his large arms resting on his thighs, "So this is about them huh? What's going on around here, everyone's talking crazy, about Taker and Glen being some kind of freak or something. About them taking over the company, what the hell is happening around here?"

Ron decides to fill the bigger man in on what has been going around among the employees of the company. Listening Wight eyes get bigger, then when Ron is finished Paul shocks them all by exploding into laughter. "Oh come on guys, nice gag, am I the only one this is being pulled on?" He continues to laugh, tears are streaming down his face till he starts to realize the others have not join him, that their demeanors and faces still hold the grime countenance they had when he arrived. Still gasping chuckles, he looks to the other three, "Guys, I'm not buying you can drop the act." His laughter slowly fads away as he realized his fellows are not acting, this is not a rib at his expense, "Hey you guys don't believe all that stuff do you?" Bob shrugs, "Honestly we have no idea what to think, I'm more incline to go with Ron, that Taker and Glen just beat Dave and Randy for being assess, but all this stuff abut them being Brothers and…"he is interrupted by Paul, "Say what? The guys are saying that they are brothers? Ok now I know someone is pulling someone's legs." He chuckles a bit, "They're not brothers, but they play one on TV." This brings a chuckle to the other men, lightening the tension a bit, "Who started this thing in the first place, and has Vince heard about it?" John nods, "He called me a bit ago to get the full lowdown on what's being going on back here." He frowns a bit, "funny thing is, he did not seemed to be surprised when I told him what the guys have been saying, or about the attack on Randy or Dave." He looks confused as he adds, "It's almost like he already knew about it all. You think Vince put it out there?"

The others share glances then shrug, "Beats me," says Ron, "You can never know what that man knows." He then looks back to Paul, "anyway we've decided to get the whole story from the Taker. Paul nods, "so were are they anyway, shouldn't they be here?" Bob sighs, "Now you see why we've been having a problem with just ignoring all this for some joke, I saw, Taker and Glen, with the Hardys, drive out of the hotel parking lot a few hours ago, and haven't seen them since." Paul looks at the short blond stunned, "You mean, all this stuff might be true?" he quickly holds up his hands shaking his head, "I don't mean all the magic crap, but about them taking those boys out and Dave and Randy trying to stop them?" The other's grow silent for a moment, then John grunts picking up his phone once more, "We don't know what to believe so we are gonna hear the story from Taker himself. I'm not letting some asshole use those guys to move his spot up."

With that he proceeds to dial.

Randy Orton and Dave Batista are sitting in another, larger, locker rooms in the back area of the arena, surrounded by, pretty much, the rest of the WWE talent pool. Dave is holding up the shoes he had been wearing during his and Randy's encounter with the four brothers, holding them high enough for all to see the soles of the shoes.

"This is what those two freaks did, we are not making this shit up." Randy turns to show the bump on the back of his head and the bruising on his right shoulder, "I got this when I hit the wall, and you heard the hotel staff say I just came flying back like I was shot out a cannon, I tell you, it's true, they got powers and used it to stop me and Dave here from saving Jeff and Matt from them." Dave nods and takes up the rant, "I have no idea what power they had over them, but the way they shoved Matt into Randy, it was clear to me, they did not want to go with them, I almost got poor Jeff away from them, when they used their powers against us. Hey you don't believe us, why not ask Shannon there." All eyes turn to the diminutive wrestler with avid interest to see what he has to say. The young man swallows a bit, then nods, "They're telling the truth, Taker and Glen, used some kind of power to get my friends to go with them. I think they tried it on me, but I was so scared, I guess they changed their minds, then Taker threatened me, and I ran." He looks down guilt coloring his voice, "I can't believe I left my best friends to those two monsters. I just ran away like a coward." Dave stands and walks over to the young man, placing a comforting arm around his shoulder, "Don't beat yourself up kid, not much normal guys like us can do against actually magic." He turns his attention to all those gathered around them, he can see not a one is in doubt about what they have heard tonight, "We have to convince Ace and Vince to get rid of these guys before they hurt someone else."

The young man known as MVP pushes forward, "But what about Matt and Jeff, shouldn't the police be called?" he looks about seeing other's agree with his assertion. Randy shrugs, "I think we should leave that for Vince to do, I honestly have had my fill of going up against those two. All I need is for them to find out I called the cops down on them." Others show their agreement with his words. Just then John Cena walks in, "I just heard from Ace. Vince is calling a meeting in 30 minutes, he wants everyone there." Dave calls out, "Hey John, you were at that meeting with Paul, Ric Shawn the Hardys and Shannon here, where Taker and Glen admitted about what they were," the young man nods slowly wondering what Dave was getting at. Dave stands up to see over the other wrestlers heads, "What's your feeling about all this?" Dave knows that in spite of it all, John Cena is looked up to by most of the newer and younger wrestlers, many would look his way on how to deal with this situation, he hopes he has read the young man right. John's jaw clenches a bit, having not really wanted to be asked this question, as he has been fighting with himself since last night on this very issue. Finally he sighs, looking at the others about him, "I was there and I saw what they can both do, and I have to be honest and say," he hesitates a moment, the rest of the room is focused on his words the tension a very tangible living thing filling the room, then he forces himself to finish, "I'm scared. What they can do is amazing and terrifying all at once. I don't think there is a thing they can't have happen if they wanted it to." He balls his fists, inwardly angry with himself for what he is saying, knowing he is betraying a confidence, even though it had already been broken somehow, "The way Jeff started to act in the room, I'm not sure if Taker or Glen had nothing to do with it but it was weird even for Jeff." He shakes his head as the words seem to stream from him of their own accord, "Then Taker having Jeff stay behind when we all left. I still have no idea why." He sighs as he continues on, "All I know is that Taker admitted he and Glen are brothers, that their 'gimmick' story, is true that he actually killed his parents when he was a kid and nearly killed Glen at the same time." He looks around at the other men in the looker room, "I mean what do you say when someone admits to being a murderer to your very face?"

It was these sobering words that finally break the spell, as the room bursts into many heated voices, none of which bode well from the two brothers.

As the everyone in the room begins to talk wildly among themselves, none notice as the door to the looker room closes slowly, or see the figure walking away smiling pleasantly to himself. "I knew I'd find away to get rid of you." He softly whispered to himself, so no one else he passed could hear. Others nod respectfully as he moves down the long isles of crates and containers, wires and cables, lost in his own thoughts.


	20. Brothers Unite

**Disclaimer: **_Give over to wwe what is wwe's, give over to me what is mine. (Eh figure it out. lol)_

**A/N: **_Ok last chapter ended where it ended cause it wanted to end there, but I still had more I had wanted to out in, so, it was a breeze to write this chapter, as it was already in my head. in fact I think the story is finally letting me get back to the story I had intended to write in the first place...(fingers crossed LOL)_

_I would like to thank, as usual, those that have read and those that have reviewed so far. Especially one reader/reviewer who helped me understand that stories tend to go off on their own tangents at times. LOL Seems easier just to let it happen then try and force it onto the patch you want. Seems you eventually get to were your going. LOL_

_Anyway here is chapter 20, Enjoy._

**Addendum A/N: **_Oh one thing I want to address and that is Jeff Hardy and issues brought up in this chapter. I do not know what Jeff was suspended for, this is just a work of fiction and I am not trying to even guess. I support Jeff and fell awful about everything that has happened to this young man in such a short time. I hope he has a strong support system in his life now, that can see him through this rough patch. I want to see that young man back on my TV and back on PPV (with a major title ;) ) But before all that, I want to know he is happy and well and I think that will take time. My hopes and best wishes go out this amazing young man.)_

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Just southwest of Dubuque, in Iowa, not far from the borders of Wisconsin and Illinois, lays a stretch of roadway called Monastery Road; the land is open with few homes, and mostly fields both tilled and wild. The land is some of the most serene to be found in the state, yet that serenity has been shattered this night, as a freak lightening storm has claimed the area. No rain accompanies the dark clouds, booming thunder or blinding lightening. Making it an odd and awe-inspiring event.

About half a mile from the road, a large car is parked in a field of wheat, two young men stand together, every so often casing slightly fearful gazes skywards as bolt after bolt of electrical discharge from the heavens rains down on a spot several yards away. The two men cast worried looks to each other, till their attention is once more drawn to the lone figure kneeling, seemingly, uncaring among the violent lighting impacts. They watch as the figure, violently throws back his head and fills the air with a soul-wrenching wail of despair. As the raw scream is ripped from the very core of the figure, the strikes of lightening and blasts of thunder increase till the young men think they will go blind and deaf from the cacophonic display.

They are suddenly startled from the unnatural maelstrom before them, as a soft emotionless voiced reaches them from inside the car. "If we don't stop him soon, he will blast a crater all the way to china." 

Stooping down to, the two men feel their hearts sink as they gaze on the man currently residing in the front passenger seat. They note he has yet to look at either man, or even glanced to the figure out in the field, and have, in fact, maintained the same position in the car, facing forward his eyes, seemingly, focused on nothing. The tone of his voice worries both men. One has heard that tone many times in the past, issued from the lips of the one beside him, and his companion knows it for what it is; hopelessness, the sign of one that has given up, given in, to the darkness of depression.

The dark haired one jumps as another bombardment of nature's fury, blasts the land around the lone figure in the fields, turning unsure eyes on his blond companion, finally finding his voice. "We have to do something." The younger man looks back to the field and then to the large man sitting motionless in the car, then returns his eyes to his associate. "I'll take Taker, you deal with Glen." He starts to move away, when the other grabs his arm, alarm alive in the dark haired man's eyes, "Jeff are you mad, you'll get killed!"

Jeff turns to look into his brother's eyes, "Look Matt, you don't understand. I've been where they are, I live like this everyday." He nods to the man in the car, "Feeling lost, alone, wanting help, but realizing there's none to be had, too afraid to ask for it." He looks back over his shoulder to the man, now bent over on the ground, "Finding out for the first time you really have nothing to hold on to. That your life's been this big illusion, crying out and no one hears cause you don't know the words to speak." He grabs Matt around the shoulders drawing him close in a crushing embrace. "I can't let them go down my road without trying to help. I can't let them lose their way too."

His words shocks the older Hardy with how filled with their own level of depression and hopelessness they are. He wraps his other arm about his brother, returning the embrace, the only way he can think to let his brother know he is here for him, finally admitting, to himself, he has never been able to find a way to save his brother from himself. He whispers, "be careful" in Jeff's ear before releasing him, Jeff smiled mouthing back 'I will', before turning to stride in the direction of the prone figure on the ground.

In spite of his bravado, Jeff found his stride towards Mark slowly ever so slightly. The atmospheric display had subsided, for now, but the young man was not too sure when the older man would again lose himself to despair and bring the heavens crashing down about them both. With care, not to startle Mark, Jeff stops a few feet away, calling softly, "Hey, hey Taker, why don't you come back to the car? It can't be all that comfortable laying on the ground like that." When he receives no sign the other had heard his words he decides to take a chance and easing closers to his friend. When he is inches away and Mark has made no move, swallowing slightly the young man kneels slowly down besides him. With some trepidation, he drapes an arm about Mark's broad shoulders laying a cheek along his back. "Hey big guy, take it from a long time fuck up, you gain nothing out of wallowing in grief or letting things like this get to you." Drawing on his own experiences for inspiration the young blond forges on, unsure his words are even reaching Mark at all.

"Stephanie did not say it was for certain, and it's all based on the lies Dave and Randy told everyone. When we get back me and Matt will set them all straight." The fact the older man has made no movement is starting to concern the young Hardy. At this point he would be happy for a lighting bolt of clap of thunder, even for the larger man to turn on him, something to show he has not completely shutdown, like it appears Glen has. That is the biggest danger right now. Depression is a slippery slope, when someone reaches the point of shutting down, no longer caring, its only a few steps to and even more tragic event then simply destroying the country side. He has to get trough to Mark, and he hopes Matt realizes he has to make the same effort with Glen.

From where he stood, Matt had to hold his breath as he saw his young brother embrace Mark. He was glad to see him survived and not get blasted by some stray lightening bolt, wishing Jeff would not take chances like that. Turning his attention to his own dilemma he stoops once more to look in on Mark's brother. Glen still had not budged and it kind of frightened the older Hardy. He had seen Jeff at some of his worse points, when he was really down, but never like the level Glen was at. Matt stared hard at the older man, wondering how he was going to shake Glen out of his funk when he was never able to do it for Jeff. Then he thought back to the conversation they had had a few hours before. The talk about how they were all real brothers and how they could understand each other better then guys that were only playing at it. Glen was not his brother, but maybe Glen would respond to things his own brother would not. It was worth the shot.

With care he opened the driver's side door and climbed in, took a deep breath and punched Glen hard in the arm, "What the hell is up with you?" he shouted as he did so, "Your acting like some baby, sitting here moping about some dumb asshole spreading rumors about you. Acting like Vince would really fire you and Taker" He throws up his hands in disgust, getting into the theatrics of the moment, "Like Vince would really let you guys go, or not take you back. Your fucking Kane, the Big Red Machine and you got bigger fan bases then those punks Batista and Orton put together. You think Vince don't realize that?" He reaches over grabs Glen's chin in his head and yanks his head to him, pained to see the dull look still in the big man's eyes, "All the guys might be hearin' stuff about you and Taker, but like we said before, once you guys get back and show them the truth, they'll all be kicking themselves for believing all those lies." Seeing he is still not reaching the man, he decides to change tracks slightly. Releasing Glen he smirks turning on the radio, letting the local country radio station play, "Fuck why do I even bother, your worse then that baby brother of mine. The slightest thing goes wrong and he's off to brood, or something worse. Hey, maybe he can share with you. So you two cry-babies can sit in a corner together and destroy a few brain cells."

Jeff looks up hearing the car radio start to fill the air, wondering what his brother is up to with Glen, but decides he has his hands full with Mark to worry about Matt and Glen right now. He looks back at the huddled mass of man, dejected that he has not been able to see a sign anything he has been saying has reached him. Jeff then thinks on the reason he is here in the first place. The fact there is some connection between Mark, Glen and himself. He thinks maybe that is the key to reaching the older man now. Mark can't hear Jeff, but he said he could feel Jeff's emotions, or something of that nature. He knows it's a long shot, but he decides to try and reach the distraught man, not through words but through emotions. He returns to his position kneeling beside mark with his arm about the man's shoulders his cheek against his back, his other hand running slowly along the top of the larger man's head in a hoped for comforting gesture. Jeff, then closes his eyes and tries his best to open himself to his own feelings right now, the only way he can think that would open them to Mark; he has to acknowledge his own feelings of the moment.

He knows he is sad for Mark and Glen. Angry about what Dave and Randy have been saying since they left. Confused about what Stephanie said about Shannon denouncing Mark and Glen. Distraught, at how this has affect two men he was starting to think of as friends. Wishing with all his being that Mark would see that this is not the end, that he has the power to show them all he is not the monster someone is saying they are. As he goes on, the boy becomes lost in his own thoughts. Never before did he think he would become as close as he has with any wrestler outside his brother and Shannon. He was not fool about the wrestling business, he knows that friends are of the moment, and very few will last throughout your career. Yet he could feel that it was different with Mark and with Glen. They made few friends, but the ones they made stayed their friends. He wished with all his heart he could have that kind of devoted and loyalty around him, maybe his life would never spiral so far out of whack so often. His thoughts, turn to the man in his embrace and he smiles absently as he thinks of how the four of them had grown so close even after such a short time. He had come to know the true men behind the masks they both still wear. The fact that Mark loved to tease his, once hated, brother took both he and Matt by surprise and it made both of them smile to think these two private men felt comfortable enough around them to even show their more lighter side.

That was the thing, he thought to himself, no matter how bad things can get, no matter how distant you find yourself from family, they are still there, and there is always a chance to find ground and return to the closeness that starts as children. His thoughts, unbidden, thin back to the fights he his brother have had over the years, and the many times they would be there together, all a part of being brothers. He could never think of abandoning Matt, no matter what, and he knew, that push come to shove, Matt would be there for him in the end. Like they both have to be here, now, for Mark and Glen. They are his brothers now, if not by blood, by spirit.

A movement beneath him draws him from his thoughts, as he feels himself jostled, gentle. He pulls back, looking down just as Mark's head turns his way, for a quick second his heart sinks as he gazes into the older man's eyes and sees no emotion at all. But the slightly quirk of the man's lips lets him know he was looking in the wrong place to find his out if he reached him. "Thank you." The voice was low and raw from screaming, but it was the greatest sound the young man had ever heard. Forgetting himself the Hardy boy lunges at Mark wrapping his arms about him, bursting into tears, the emotions he had been calling on to reach Mark spilling out uncontrollably.

Back in the car Matt is unaware of his brother's break through with Mark, as his project still seems out of reach. Still the young man pushes on with his chosen path.

"I can't believe how selfish you and Jeff can be. He whines and moans about everything being unfair to him, each time something doesn't go right, and you, Damn." He smirks looking over to the man sitting beside him, "You got a brother that's not a fuck up and cares for you, and you sit there like you're the only person that matters." Snorting he reaches over and changes the tuner to a classic rock channel as he goes on, "Bet ya didn't once think about Taker when you decided to take a dive into your own mind to hide. You talk all tough about being used to people treating you like a monster when you were growing up. Bet ya did not think about the fact that Taker might not have gotten used to it?" shaking his head he grunts derisively, "Nope it's all about the Big Red Put-upon Machine. Forget the fact that Taker's been protecting you ever since you starting playing his brother in the company. Everyone knows while you two were feuding, Taker was quietly in the back, making sure Vince and Russo, did not push you into bad angles and the like." Sighing he leans back, putting his arms behind his head acting nonchalant, "I hear that's why they moved him to Smackdown and kept you on Raw. So Hunter could use you for his own purposes." He shrugs as he leans forward to change the tuner once more, just as just as Aerosmiths, 'Walk this Way', starts to play. He jumps as his hand is griped in a gentle vice, "Don't I like that song."

The young man looks up, finally realizing that he'd been so into his diatribe he never realized that Glen had watching him all this time, nor that tears had been streaming down the big man's face. "Hey man," he begins his own emotions threatening to make themselves known, "Welcome back big guy." Glen nods, then turns from the young man to wipe his face, grunting a bit to clear his voice before speaking, "How's Mark?" Matt turns to look out the window and can't help but smile as some tears start their own journey down his face, "I think he's going to be ok too." Glen turns following Matt's gaze, marveling at the sight of his brother, locked in an embrace with the youngest Hardy. He chuckles softly; his world-renowned sense of humor making itself felt, "Damn, and me without my camera. The blackmail potential of that scene is enormous." Matt laughs then unthinkingly punches the big man in the arm, "Hey, no getting my brother killed." With that they both burst into laughter, themselves embracing briefly.

A few minutes pass before Mark and Jeff rejoin the other two brothers at the car. Matt leaves the car to walk a bit away with his brother, knowing the other brotherly set, will need some privacy for a bit.

Mark watches as the two young men walk over to admire his handiwork, in the form of the scorched and blasted earth where he had been kneeling. Sighing softly he turns back to his brother, "Those are two amazing kids huh." Glen, who had been watching the Hardys over Mark's should nods and smiles, "Who'd of thunk they had brains in those extreme heads of their. I thought it was only filled with ideas of how to kill them selves in the ring." Both men laugh as Mark moves to lean next to Glen against the car. "Well now that we are over acting like children, we have to decide what we are going to do." Glenn casts a curious look to his big brother, "What do you mean? You act like we have a choice here." Mark nods looking down as he folds his arms, allowing the car to support his weight, "We do, but with those choices come consequences." Glen mirrors his brother's posture, "Ok you got me, what choices and what consequences?"

Mark shifts his gaze upwards, "We go back and face all the rumors going around. Fight for our jobs, even if it means intimidating Vince and the rest, or we continue on with the job for Paul." Glen shakes his head confused, "Wait, I don't know about you, but I thought I had to choice in that matter, my bastard of a dad has be under his control through that damn urn of yours, remember?" Mark chuckles as he looks over to his brother, "Maybe its not the Hardy Boyz that are lacking in the brains department, lil bro. If that was the case, how do you figure you haven't been drawn to get the job done? Or me for that matter?" Glen frowns a bit then looks to his brother astounded. "Hey your right, I don't get it, how come. I mean I was feeling a bit antsy in the hotel, then it just up and stopped, I just never realized it." Mark nods, "Do you remember when the need to complete the orders faded?" Glen shakes his head negatively, as Mark smirks and nods to the two brothers in the distance, "My guess it was around the same time those two got to the hotel. Or more to the point, when Jeff walked in the door." Glen eyes widen as he turns his attention, also, to the two young men, now shoving each other as if they are going to push the other brother into one of Mark's lightening made holes, "That kid again? What's up with him? First he can hear you talking to me and you can't read his mind," he turns narrowed eyes on his brother now, "Oh and don't think I have not forgotten about you not telling me about that nifty little ability, when this is all over, we will get into that." Mark rolls his eyes as Glen continues with his point, "Now you are telling me, that this kid is somehow blocking Paul's influence, over both of us? How?" Mark looks down kicking at the dirt with the tip of his boot, "No idea. But it's given us some room to work. 

You want to know what the consequences are?" Glen nods reluctantly, "If we ignore the mystical job and go back to save our wrestling jobs, we might not make up the time, and Jeff or no Jeff, Paul and his friend will not be happy and we will feel their wrath in the end." Sighing he stands turning about to lean his elbows on the car hood, looking back and up to his brother, "If we keep going, let whatever is happening back in that arena to sort itself out, we'll be out of a job and, if I know human nature, and I do, the truth will still get out, and we will be jobless and the prey to anyone powerful enough to control us, from the military to some private interests." Glen smirks grunting, "So what you are saying is we are screwed either no matter what." Mark smiles humorlessly, "Yeah, pretty much. So what's your call?" Glen stands turning to Mark, "Me? Why me?" Mark stands too putting a hand on his bother's broad shoulder, "because, when all is said and done, this will affect you more then it will ever affect me. I've been a slave to others before. In time I'll just fall back into old habits of doing what I'm told." He then grasps Glen's shoulders with both hands, his eyes blazing with inner emotion he can barely hold in place, "Paul never really controlled you, not like me. You've never been a slave unable to act of your own will." 

He releases Glen as he steps back waving a hand along his younger brother's body, "This thing with the Urn can't hold, you'll be free in time. If Vince fires you, you'll be jobless and at the mercy of anyone with the will and power to force you to do their bidding." He turns and walks a bit away, still talking, "But if we go back, make everyone see what they are hearing is false, at least were it pertains to us taking over and what happened in the lobby, you might get to keep your job and your friends." He turns looking back at his brother, "Quiet honestly Kane, I don't want to end up in Paul's grip again, I also don't want to end up the pawn of some other powerful person. I just want to live my life by my rules. But I would rather end up Paul's lapdog again, then see you suffer that fate with me." He sighs once more looking back over to the other men in the field idly wondering why they are staring back at them but continues to talk, "It's why I'm leaving it up to you. I guess I'm just not strong enough to make the decision I know is right. Guess that makes me selfish."

Glen has said nothing, could say nothing, as he listened to his brother speak. To be honest he knew what he wanted. He wanted to run back to the arena, keep his job and beat the living hell out of Dave, Randy and that punk Shannon. But he remembers what Matt had said to him just a few minutes ago and finds he can not continue acting blind to his brother's sacrifices on his behalf, it was time Glen thought about someone other then Glen. "Fine, then lets get going. We still have to get to the first location and we must be behind schedule on this." Mark looks to his brother in shock, he surely thought that Glen would opt to head back, taking that decision from Mark, but now that he hears his brother is ready to sacrifice his happiness for him, he can't allow it. "Hell no. We are heading back to the arena and keeping our jobs." Mark move back to the car reaching for the door as his brother blocks him, "Hey! You said it was my choice and that's what I choose."

Mark starts to grow angry with Glen. He can't understand why he is being so stubborn, can't he see Mark is doing this for Glen's own good. He goes to push Glen aside so he can enter the car, "Just shut up and lets get going, I'm sure that mee…" The next thing Mark finds himself on the ground as Glen shoves him away, a bit to hard it would seem, from entering the car. "What the hell is wrong with you Kane? We have to go back damn it." Glen, who is now also furious with his big brother for handing him the responsibility of choosing then ignoring his choice because it did not suite his martyr complex, jumps upon his prone brother holding his shoulders to the ground. "I am so tired of you acting like you have to always protect me. I'm a big boy Mark, bigger then you in fact." Mark, who is far better at this type of confrontation then Glen, even though Glen does weight a bit more then Mark, shifts his center of gravity, allowing him to leverage Glen up a bit, enough to allow Mark to bring his arms up enough to unseat his brother, "I know your bigger, you might want to bypass the buffet at a few shows now and then."

Glen growls angrily at his brother's jib, begins to rise up, only to find his brother has pounced on him driving him back to the ground, "Oh no, your not getting back up, till you listen to reason." Mark grunts with effort as he works at keeping the younger man down, "I never should have given you the choice, I was being selfish. You can't live my life Kane and I am not about to let you. We are going back and that is finaaa…" Now it's Mark who finds himself flying backwards as Glen, shows why is he wrestler, basically shifting his weight, lifting his legs and flipping backwards and launching Mark over his head.

He rolls quickly to a crouch spinning around hoping to get to his brother before he has a chance to recover, unfortunately, Mark living up to his reputation for being very agile for a man his size, caught himself as he was flipped in the air and was able to bring his feet under him, cushioning the landing and allowing him to again, launch a tackle into his just rising brother. Baring Glen back to the ground, "Nice try Kane, but you know I'm faster then you." Glen, annoyed that Mark seems to be getting the better of him, reaches around and grabs Mark bound pony tail and yanks back hard causing Mark to curse in pain and fall back as to not have Glen pull his hair out. "No Mark, you can't take something back after making me chose that like." Glen stands, breathing hard as he moves to lean against the car, yelling back at his brother who is also rising to his feet trying to catch his breath as well, "And stop calling me Kane!"

Mark's eyes widen as he realizes he's has been doing that. "Damn Glen, I don't know why I keep calling you that. I...I'm sorry." He walks over to lean his back against the car sighing, "Damn I am so fucked up right now." He looks over to his brother, "You ok? I didn't hurt ya none did I?" Glen, just to be mean smirks and snorts derisively, "Yeah, like an old man like you could hurt me." His brother chuckles a bit, "Keep up with the 'old man' stuff and I'll get back to kicking that ass."

"So you two done acting like 10 year olds?" Both brothers look up wide-eyed as the Hardy brothers walk up to them, "Depends. Want to join in next time?" Glen winks as he pushes off from the car walking around to the passenger side, reaching in to grab a few tissues from the side storage area. Using one to dab at the side of his mouth where he can feel a trickle of blood from the rough housing with his brother, handing a few to Mark nodding to his brother's mouth. Jeff chuckles as Matt rolls his eyes, then walks over to hop up on to the car hood looking back and forth between the two larger men. "Just so you know me and Matt came up with an idea so both of you get what you want and saves some broken bones at the same time.

Mark, balls up the tissue launching it into the darkness, "What are ya getting on about boy?" Jeff pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged, "Gee would be nice you would stop calling me 'boy'." Mark smirks, "Not happening in this life time kid, so what's your idea?" He looks at Matt who is trying hard not to laugh at the two of them. "Well we kind of heard what you two were saying before, about the choices and that stuff about me and how I seem to effect whatever it is your supposed to be doing or whatever." He spins around on the hood to better see both brothers, "Well it seems to me, that seeing as there are two of you and two of me, and really only one of you needs to go back and save your jobs, me and Glen head back to the arena and Matt continue on with Mark.

Mark Turns about looking at both the young men like they had lost their minds, which he was wondering, "Boy are you crazy? That's the dum…" he is suddenly interrupted by his own brother, "Wait Mark he's got something there. If I'm right about what he is thinking. If he goes with me back to settle thing with Vince and the guys, I stay free of the compulsion of the Urn right? And while I'm doing that, you can keep heading to wherever it is you have to go first." Glen moves around the car to look his brother in the eye, "Look Mark we both know the only reason my father bound me to the Urn and sent me with you, is cause he had to get me out of the way so I would not interfere with whatever this thing is he has you doing. You don't need me, but like you said the reason were not rushing off to do this is cause of Jeff." He looks at the young Hardy with new admiration, "Damn Jeff your smarter then those jumps off of ladders make you out to be."

It takes Mark a little more to realize what his brother and Jeff are saying, which, in itself, bothers him, "Ok, so your saying, Jeff goes with you, keeps you off the Urn's grid, So tell me why I'm Taking Matt along." He turns to look at the dark haired Hardy, "Because my brother insist I keep an eye on you. He's got this feeling you shouldn't go off alone, you might need some help." Jeff nods, "Yeah and once me and Glen set everyone straight, and Dave and Randy on their assess again, we can catch up to you two."

Mark is still unsure about this plan, but something else is nagging him, and he does not have the time to debate anymore. Nodding sharply he moves to the trunk of the car grabbing his and Matt's travel bags, closing the trunk and walking back to the others. "Keep me informed if anything goes wrong. Ka…"He frowns as his eyes narrow, he would have to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. "...Glen." he reaches into the car pulling out his jacket, that is when he notes his cell, which he has dropped on to the seat after Stephanie's call, is blinking showing he has messages. "Now what?" He grabs it looking at the number display and smirks, "I think you guys might have some help when you get back to the arena." He says after reading the text message. "Who was that? What did it say," Asks Glen as he moves closer, "It was John, wanting me to get back to him and the others, they want to hear what the truth is." He smiles to the two Hardys, "Guess you two were right, we do have friends behind us, besides the two of you." He closes the phone and slips it into the jacket, before putting it on. "Ok you two get going, you have a long drive back to the arena. The show will probably be almost over when you get there. Keep in touch and stay out of danger ok." With that he steps back as Glen gets in to the drivers seat without a word.

Despite what he has said, Glen is still concerned about his brother, and what he has to do. Once Jeff is in, he starts the car turning it about and heading the way they came, for the long drive back to the Arena.

Matt and Mark watch till they can no longer see the car's tail lights, then Matt looks around then up to Mark, "Um big guy, how are we getting anywhere? They have the car and the last rest stop is 5 miles back the way we came." The massive man looks down on his smaller companion flashing him one of his infamous wicked grins, "You see that thing I do in the ring, where the lights go out, and I just appear out of nowhere?" He chuckles softly as Matt, nods swallowing hard, "Well you ever wonder where that idea came from?" Matt shakes his head no vigorously, already knowing what is coming next, "Well too bad boy, ya gonna be the first normal human to take a trip through the Darkside. Hope you don't get motion sickness." With that Mark's eyes turn white and the darkness descends on them both.


	21. A Journey of Truths

**A/N: **_Well here I am. Back again with the next chapter of this thing that has taken over my mind. LOL_

_I want to thank, first, all those that have read or reviewed up to this point. I am very happy ppl are enjoying my story. I know it is different then most stories you find on this site, and for a fan fic, and understand completly it is not to eveyones tests, so I am very appreciative of those that have stuck with the story this far. (Considering it was supposed to be a very short story and now has made it to 21 chapters. LOL)_

_I do, again, want to reassert I do not know anyone in this story personally and this is all a work of fiction. That and my own imagined insights about the characters as opposed to the men. I do sprinkle in a bit of my own feelings about them, but none of it is fact. I also ask that if anyone sees any typos or anything please bring it to my attention. I hate for something badly spelled to take away from anyone's ability to follow the story._

_Lastly, this chapter took a bit of time due to your basic writers block. I might take some time off to deal with the Truth or Dare story. If I do, do not think I have abandon this. This is my main project I have nothing else in the wings. I'm not a writer, so there are not tons of stories begging to be written, this is pretty mush it. So if you see something else out of me, be assured it's just ginger for my writing pallet. (Sushi lovers will know what I mean. ;))_

_Anyway, on to Chapter 21!_

_Enjoy!_

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"Ok I know this was my idea, but how are we going to get back to the arena before the show is over and everyone has head off for the next venue?" Jeff comments as he is pressing the tuner on the car stereo trying, in vain to find something he's up to listening to. He glances up to his car companion, wondering why Glen hasn't said much since they left Matt and Taker sometime ago, noting how Glen's jaw seems to be working, he begins to wonder if maybe he should leave off playing with the radio, conversely wishing he had thought to grab his CDs from his bag in the trunk when he had the chance.

Taking Glen's silence as a hint he might want to just settle down he sits back leaving the station currently playing a Sugerland song where it is. Directing his attention to the passing landscape outside, he asks himself what he was thinking coming up with this plan in the first place. In all likelihood they would get there tomorrow, everyone would be gone and Glen and Taker already let go. Then all he could see is an up hill struggle, first to find and meet with Vince and the head office to plead their case and then making the trip to both shows to explain things to the guys and beat the crap out of both Orton and Batista; as well to find Shannon and find out why his best friend turned on them the way he did.

"About time." He whips his head around to stare at Glen, wondering what he meant by that, "What was that? About time for what?" Glen smirks casting a quick glance to the boy then returning his attention back to the road, "You wanted to know how we were going to get to the arena on time right?" Jeff nods his head slowly, "Yeah, even if we break all the speed laws we won't make ti before tomorrow," the young man smirks a bit, "and at the rate you drive, I'm more banking on tomorrow afternoon. You can go above 55 ya know." Glen snorts, thinking this kid defiantly has been around his brother far to much, he is starting to get Mark's teasing sense of humor, "I drive the way I drive and, for your information lil Taker, I could be standing still and we'll still make it there before the last match."

Jeff gawks in disbelief of the large man's words, "How could we get there if we weren't moving," he laughs, "teleport?" the laughter dies as he watches Glen turn slowly towards him with one of his lopsided grins, he uses on screen, "I hope you don't get motion sickness." Jeff's eyes nearly bulge out of his head, as he hears the wind outside start to pick up. Franticly the young wrestler's head whips back and forth trying to figure out what is going on, as flashes of lighting start to streak past the outside of the car. At the same time, Jeff's natural sense of motion tells him they are starting to pick up speed. "Glen what the fucks going on?" the young man's heart starts to pound rapidly in his chest as unexplained fear grips his gut tight, causing the young man to grabs the muscled arm of his companion trying desperately to get his attention, "DAMN IT GLEN!" he yells just to be heard over the wind as it is howling so loud he can't even hear the lighting strikes as they rain down all around the car, "TALK TO ME, HOW ARE YOU FUCKING DOING THIS?"

For his part Glen does not waste time answering the frightened young man hanging onto his bicep. The boy would hardly hear him anyway, and he does not want to over shoot his target. He knows Mark, probably, will only have one shot at this. If he misses the focal point, then Jeff's earlier words would prove to be true and he did not want to contemplate that. Finally he sees what he has been waiting for. Taking a chance he takes one hand off the wheel grabbing the, still, frantically yelling Hardy by the jaw forcing him to look out the front window. The action has the desired effect as the boy freezes up, his eyes going wide as his mouth drops open.

Directly in front of the duo's car about 100 yards and closing is a swirling void of darkness. The two men, watch as the lightening that hand been striking the ground around the moving car starts to inexplicably bend towards the void, almost as if the vast nothingness before them is sucking in the lighting, the light and, as Matt suddenly realizes as the howling wind seems like it is moving past the car, sound itself. Without thinking the young man moves closer to the large man to his side, feeling instinctually that his only protection from that devouring void is this man.

Glen on the other hand is, himself, unnerved by the display before him. Mark had, sometime ago, described this phenomenon to Glen should there ever come a time Mark would need to bring Glen to him, or send him someplace else, when Mark was not there to provide the transport himself. Glen did not understand the mechanics behind how it was done, all he knew was that, what he saw before him, was a manifestation of the Darkside itself, facilitated by Mark's powers. Something Mark could only do when he was, himself, in that dark domain.

There were a few warnings his brother had issued to Glen, but, in truth, Glen was not paying attention at the time, just amazed that his brother was being so willing to explain that side of his being at the time. It was not long into their renewed brotherly association and Glen was still learning about the man his brother had become over the intervening decades. Now he greatly wished he had paid more attention, as this is the first time he will be experiencing this aspect of Mark's powers.

He again casts a quick look to the kid next to him, sensing the boy's fear without much effort, unable to deny he is also not to sure about what is to come. Even so he steels himself staying on course to hit the void directly at its center, a point that seems, if this is possible, to be even darker and emptier then the darkness surrounding it. The closer, in fact, that Glen gets to the portal, the more he finds controlling the car is becoming an effort in itself, as if some unseen force is trying to grab the car in several different directions; something, Glen is sure, that if he does not maintain firm control and hit the center of the void the forces around them would rip the car into scrap metal and he and Matt into fleshy confetti. Matt, for his part, has quickly decided asking, or yelling, questions at Glen was doing him no good, nor seeing Glen casting his own nervouse looks in his direction, so the young wrestler just sits back, grips the seat belt and wonders what being dead will be like.

It's at this point that both men, come to realize the sound of the howling wind, that, still sounded like it was rushing past the car in the direction of the darkness, was being drowned out, slowly, by another sound. It took Glen a few seconds to recognize the sound and to remember Mark's long ago made warnings. Not wasting a second he yells to Hardy over the diminishing sound of the wind and the rising sound coming from the darkness itself, "MATT COVER YOUR EARS!" he looks seeing the boy can not hear him now, over all the roaring sounds. Finding he has no choice and hoping they are close enough and going fast enough that the car will not veer off course, the big man, reaches to Matt with both hand, ripping the young man's own hands from the vice-like grip he had on the seat belt placing them over his ears, mouthing for him to leave them there. Matt's eyes grow wide with fear but nods his understanding as he adds pressure, while closing his eyes shut. Glen is glade instinct took over with the boy, as another warning from Mark resurfaces as he, forsaking retaking the wheel, places his own hands over his ears while squeezing his eyes shut as well. Now all the large man could do is pray the car was still on track to hit the center of the void and that Mark was correct and all he had to do was cover his ears and close his eyes to avoid having his and Matt's souls forever forfeit to the Darkside.

Glen could still feel the motion of the car, but feels the tugging outer forces subsides, squinting harder all he could think about was the scene from the original Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, when Sathod put on the glasses designed to hide him from danger. When all they did was turn black, on the premises of, if they can't see you they can't hurt you. He thought it was dumb then, but hopes it works better then it did for Sathod.

A sudden jolting of the car, nearly makes Glen and Matt open their eyes, but sheer terror and self discipline helps them to keep their lids down, that and the slight sounds that leak past their hands, just the faint wailing they can hear is enough to provide incentive for both men.

Glen begins to remember and understand his brother's warning concerning this mode of travel as he finds his mind slipping back to his early childhood. He relives times in his life that were not very pleasant, like the time he had gone down into his, as he thought then, father's work room. He was only 6 and full of curiosity. His brother was nowhere to be found for him to bug and his mother was busy with the laundry. Glen had decided to seek out his father for company, even though the man was more a stranger to him then Paul at the time. Not finding the elder Calaway at any of his normal places young Glen made a cautious venture to the steps leading down to the workshop both boys had been warned never to venture into. A few tentative calls down the stairs that produced no reply emboldened the young boy. He reasoned he would look about for his father quickly and be back up the stairs just as fast if he was not there, and no one would be the wiser. The young child found out, nothing is ever that easy.

…"Father? Are you down there father?" softly the young 6 year old Kane whispers into the silence below. Standing at the top of the stairs gathering all his young courage he sets his small jaw in determination and sets his foot on the first step down. He proceeds slowly, expecting at any time for his father to appear at the bottom of the flight frowning his disapproval, his cold gaze, so reminiscent of his older brother. He would not yell at Kane, he would speak in a low cold tone, which would send chills of dread through the young child enough to send him running head long to his mother for assurance and comfort.

_He always wondered about how much alike Mark was to their father and how he did not seem to have anything in common at all with the older man. Still there were differences that made his brother more approachable, where as their father rarely open to his children's attentions and when he was, the time with the man was very short. In spite of that, young Kane love his father and treasured what little time he was able to have with him. So this was a prime opportunity the child was not going to let slips; no matter how nervous he was at the moment._

_As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the boy looked about the empty work room, marveling at the tables and apparatus used by his father on the deceased bodies that were places in his care. Bolstering his courage Kane slowly strolled about the area, forgetting, for the moment, that he had intended to take a quick look for his father then return back up to the main area of the house. But being a young and curious child he found himself further and further away from the safe exit of the stairs._

_Soon his wandering brought him near a back wall, with a single nondescript door. As he is passing the door, the child suddenly heard, what appeared to be, the sounds of talking. Moving closer to the door Kane could tell there were two people speaking, though he could not tell who it was or what they where saying. Carefully, now fearing discovery the young child placed his ear close to the door, amazed that the voices were now much clearly and very identifiable._

"_I've been doing as you've commanded, I do not understand your ire." The voice is that of their father's assistant Paul Bearer. A man that Kane has never been very comfortable around, even though he as always been very friendly and open with both him and Mark. There were many times the slightly pudgy man would sit with the two boys, telling them stories, sharing confidences with them. Though Kane felt the older man was more interested in his brother, more then Kane, he did feel Paul's eyes on him, when Paul thought the child was not aware. It was these, furtive, glances that filled the boy with unease around the elder man._

_As Kane's eyes dart back the way he came, fearing discovery at any time, he continues to listen to the conversation beyond the door._

"_Yet the whelp continues to cling to that nauseating breed mare of a mother." The other voice seems familiar to the young boy, but he cannot seem to get a grip from where he had heard the voice. He is not sure if it is the thickness of the door that is distorting the voice, or the fact there seems to be an overlay of another voice on top another, giving the speaker a echo like effect. "You have been set with one responsibility. Gain his trust, direct him away from the influence of his mother, and set him on the road that will, in time, gain me access to the power within him." A saddened strangled cry causes Kane to jump back from the door, making his seriously consider running back up the stairs as fast as he could, but his curiosity gains control once more and he cautiously returns his ear to the door. "… this I have set into motion and your incompetence can bring it all for naught, forcing me to wait another 30 plus years for the time to become right once more." There is the sound of something hitting the floor then Paul's voice once more, sounding as if he is struggling for breath with each word, "Please, I will have the boy ready for you, he will turn away from the light, I promise. I just need time, he is what he is, to go to fast risks his rebelling against the light _and_ the dark." Paul laughs so low, Kane nearly missed hearing it, "I am sure you know the dangers should the door reject both extremes, no one in their right mind would call that eventuality down on creation." There is a long pause and Kane wonders if the two have moved to far for him to hear then Paul's voice picks up once more, "I…I will do what must be done, you will have what you have worked towards, this I promise." Kane moves from the door, his mind a swirl with questions. Who is the man Mr. Bearer was talking to. What is this door. And more disturbing, what boy were they talking about._

_The child is so lost in his thoughts he is caught completely by surprise as the door swings opens suddenly. He is unprepared as it swings into him, the impact hard enough to propel the young child into a large wooden shelving unit, filled with books, some of which rain down on the stunned child. By time Kane regains he senses he find Paul reaching out to grab him violently from among the debris of books, the look on the older man's face sends terror through the young boys body, paralyzing him. He wants to cry out, he wants to call for his mother or father, even Mark, someone to save him as he fears this trusted friend of the family is about to kill him in his father's workshop and no one will be the wiser. His young mind providing many ways this man will end his life, and how his family will look and look for him, but probably never find his broken body, which Paul will, most likely, just bury on in the cemetery. His eyes go wide as he imagines his poor mother walking by his impromptu grave calling for his little boy, tears rolling down her face, or his father moving stoically by his dark eyes moving slowly back and forth in search of his youngest. Then he thinks of his brother and he sees him under his favorite tree, staring at nothing as he usually does, then a single tear would appear, then gone as if it had not been there._

_All this flashed into Kane's head in that split second he looked up into Paul's face. "Do not harm him." Kane's eyes go even wider as he looks to the door and sees the man framed in its opening. Now his young mind is stunned and no thoughts or imaginings will flow, as he stares unmoving. "We have to do something, he must have heard something of our conversation." The form moves, besides Paul tilting Kane's chin up so the paralyzed boy is forced to look into eyes he has seen before. "He may have heard, but he will never tell." With those words Kane's mind is plunged into darkness…_

There is a sudden banging coming from outside the car and both men wonder at the sudden cessation of the howling and the wailing.

"Hey, you two ok?"

The voice is muffled through the door, and they both found it to be and odd question to hear in the Darkside, as they both assumed they were now in. Glen, decides to take a slight risk and slowly lift the lid of his right eye, prepared to slam it shut if anything soul taking might be surrounding their car. What he is greeted with nearly makes him whoop for joy and relief. He grabs Jeff hugging him and laughing. "We made it!" For a moment Glen feels something tugging at the back of his mind, something he was forgetting, something he had to remember, then the feeling was gone as if it never was.

Jeff finding himself nearly crushed by Glen, can't help but open his eyes fully, aghast to find their car situated in the parking garage of the arena surrounded by several gawking WWE employees and arena personnel. Quickly Jeff extracts himself from Glen's over ecstatic embrace and works at releasing the seat belt. "Glen come on look at the time, there's only 15 minutes left before the show is over." Glen nods as he regains his composure removing his belt quickly as he sees Jeff is already out of the car and racing for the back door past stunned employees.

Jeff, for his part, feels he can't wait for Glen, knowing the big man will be on his heels he pushes the heavy metal doors to the backstage area open, and storms down the first corridor he comes too. The area is filled with busy WWE crew already going about breaking down the equipment no longer needed for the show, and he is concerned that the people he needs to catch have already long gone. Back in the day, when he and his brother first came to the company, mostly everyone stayed till the end of the televised shows, just incase they were needed for some impromptu onscreen segment, or last minute change in programming. Now though, many guys were allowed to head to their hotels or set on the road to the next venue when the show was nearing end of the show. So Jeff breathed a huge sigh when he saw Jimmy Yang sitting on a metal crate, still in ring gear, talking to Shannon of all people.

Seeing his close friend and the person they left behind to watch their backs, something snapped for Jeff, and he picked up speed, tackling Shannon to the floor striking the smaller man in the jaw. He rears back to hit his 'friend' once more, as someone grabs his arm from behind yanking him back and off of Shannon. Jeff spins about, ready to sock whoever was trying to prevent him from getting his revenge on Shannon when he sees it is Glen, who had finally caught up to him. "What the hell are you doing, we don't have time for this." Jeff pulls his arm from Glen, with some effort, as he looks back at Shannon who is being helped up by Yang. "There's always time to beat the shit out of someone that lied and betrayed us." Both he and Glen are stopped cold when they hear Shannon speak. "I didn't betray ya. I was pretending. I was trying to find out who spread the news about Mark and Glen like I said I would." He spits out some blood, as he goes to lean against the crate. "No one would trust of talk to me at first cause they thought I was involved in all this. I figured if I said what I said and went along with Batista and Orton, I'd have a better chance at finding out who's behind all this."

Jeff does not by it and is about to say just that when Glen lays a strong hand on his shoulder shaking his head, "He's telling the truth." Jeff blinks then looks back at Shannon and the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth and lowers his head sheepishly, "Damn Shan, I'm sorry. It's just that we heard some stuff, and they said you were talking about me and Matt being kidnapped…."He trails off really ashamed that he did not trust one of his best friends to be loyal to him and his brother. "Man I feel like shit right now." Shannon just shakes his head and walks over to Jeff, pulls him into a hug whispering in his ear, "Hey it's ok, we're always gonna be buds." He then leans back and hits Jeff hard in the jaw spinning him around so hard he would have hit the floor if Glen had not been there to catch him. "Next time trust me you ass."

Glen is taken aback as Jeff rights himself laughing, "Yeah, yeah, ok I deserved that." Shannon crosses his arms and nods. Finally Glen breaks in, "So did you find out anything?" Shannon looks past his friend to Glen and shaking his head sadly, "No, nothing. And to make matters worse there was a meeting before the show, and Vince pretty much said you and Taker are being suspended." These words draw a frown from the large man. "Suspended? I though we were being fired, what change his mind?"

"We did." Glen and Jeff turn around quickly looking confused as Ron Simmons, Bradshaw, Bob Holly and Shawn Michaels walk up behind them. "We brought up that firing you two would not look great to the fans and once the press got wind of it, all sorts of speculations would start to run rapid." This from Shawn who leans against a crate his eyes darting back and forth along the corridor they are in. "A lot of the guys were ready to see you two go, but when we brought up how popular you two were and reminded them what happened when Vince fired Matt, they all settled down. No one wants to work with a crowd all chanting about how another wrestler was fired," He chuckles, "tends to take away from what you are trying to do in the ring."

The all see the relief displayed by Glen and Jeff, as the two step over closer to where Shannon and Jimmy had been sitting. The other four move closers as well, as this corridor seemed to be off to the side of the main traffic around the area. After casting his gaze over to the more open area, making sure no one was observing them Glen looks to the new comers.

"Not sure how to think you guys. I'm not hot about the suspension, but it's better then being fired, and it will give me and Jeff a chance to set everyone straight on a few things." Holly nods then, after looking from Ron to Bradshaw looks Glen in the eye, "We'll help you guys out no matter what, Taker got our loyalty. But I have to ask, we have to ask…" Glen holds a hand up sighing, "You want to know what is the truth and what isn't and what went down in the lobby earlier. And know I did not read your mind," he smirks, "that's Mark's domain."

"So all that mumbo we've heard about powers and you two being brothers is true." Ron Simmons' words were more a statement then a question. Ron, who is leaning against a crate across from the others, eyes bore into Glen's as if he is gauging something. Glen nods meeting the black man's gaze head on, knowing Ron is a no nonsense type and he'd turn his back on Glen _and_ Mark if he though he was being played for a fool. Ron nods back and sighs, "Well that settles it man, we find McMahon and set things right." Ron is a take charge person, as all in the back know, when it is called for and one of the truly respected individuals in the locker room, along with Mark. His matter of fact reaction changes the whole attitude of the gathering as the uncertainty that was there among the other wrestlers morph into a determined outlook to get the other boys on board and behind the two brothers.

"Glen you come with me and Shawn, will catch Vince before he leaves the arena." He glances up clearly listening to the muted crowd noises above them, "Sounds like Cena's match against Umaga and Mark is still going, I think it's set for 20 with a run in by Randy then Dave." He then looks to the other wrestlers, "You guys hit the gorilla, make sure those two punks don't go nowhere till we get done with Vince." He grins a bit walking over to Glen and patting his broad shoulders, "I think Glen here will want to have a few word with those boys before they call it a night." Glen can't help but feel one of his in character sadistic smiles cross his face. "Yeah, I need to thank them for being so understanding and forthright." The others laugh as the group breaks up to deal with their assigned duties.

As Glen and the others make their way to the makeshift offices near the back Shawn moves closer to Glen casting uncertain glances his way. "Ok Shawn what is it?" The older man swallows a bit then looks away as he speaks, "I just wanted to apologize." Glen frowns looking down at the smaller man, "Apologize for what? Not like you started spreading those rumors or lies." Shawn looks up to him as Glen makes this matter of fact statement, "How do you know it wasn't me? Not say it was, but you sound like you are sure, like it could never have been me." Glen lets loose a laughs, which draws the attention of Ron as well, who also would love to know how Glen could be so sure. The truth of the matter is, he, Bob and Hawk were not to sure about Shawn when he came to them, all certain that he had to have had some hand in the attempt to get Glen and Mark fired. It took a lot of convincing on Shawn's part to win them over, including Shawn being the first to speak up for the brothers at the meeting.

"Like I said, I can't read minds. But I do trust my brother on who to trust and your name's right up there near the top Shawn." Shawn looks at the big man in some shock, "Taker trust me? After all this time?" Glen nods as they near the office where Vince would be if not in the Gorilla.

Shawn works hard at hiding the smile that wants to emerge all over his face hearing the man he was once close to, and who's friendship he ruined with his own drive and aspiration to be on top of the business, still felt he could be trusted. He remembers clearly those times he and Mark would hit various night spots after shows to unwind, most times not hanging around with the rest of the boys when they would head to the more popular bars or grab drinks and companionship, for later, in the hotel. The two Texans would prefer to find less mainstream fun, or relax in atmospheres more suited to their backgrounds. So small bars, or roadside taverns would be more the place you would find the two, in back booths, sometimes joined by their very close friends. He and Mark shared a lot back then, associated more, but then Shawn lost focus on friends and turned his attention to where he was and where he wanted to be. Spurred on by associates other then Mark. He truly missed the big man's level head and dedication and has cursed himself for years for letting that go, especially as he thinks about where he is now in his life.

He is brought out of his melancholic reverie at the sound of Glen knocking on Vince's office door. They all smile brightly as Shane opens the door and his eyes go wide seeing who is standing there.

"Glen. What the…how did you…" Shane finds it hard to find the right words as one fo the two men his father had just suspended was standing in the door to his office, not to mention the fact it would appear he was not alone. His questioning and baffled gaze sweep over all the men before them, just as a voice drifts from inside the room. "Shane did you say Glen?" Just then Vince himself steps into sight behind his son. "What the hell. I thought you and Mark had left?"

Glen, who is becoming more and more agitated pushes both McMahons back into their office followed quickly by his companions. Vince and Shane hurriedly scurry back near the desk set in the room for their use during the show, Shane making sure he is between himself and the towering form of Glen. "Look big guy, we had to suspend you and Mark. After what you two did. Attacking Dave and Randy and forcing Jeff and Matt to go with you, what were you two thinking?" The look in the big man's eyes cause both owners to move back away from him even more, bumping into the edge of the desk as they do so. "I'm going to say this once and only once, we did not attack those two assholes. They confront us as we were leaving, and the Hardys were coming alone of their own free will." He rolls his eyes as Shane chimes in, "Not according to Dave, Randy, or even jeff and Matt's friend Shannon Moore. He confirm Mark was forcing them to go and even threatened him, if he said anything."

A deep growl from Glen is a clear warning picked up by Shawn who steps up putting, what he hopes is, a calming hand on Glen's arm, "Vince it was all a lie, Shannon only told you that cause, well we'll get into why Shannon lied, as for Dave and Randy, they lied cause they are morons." He moves from Glen's side walking over to Vince and Shane, "I've seen Jeff, who is here in the arena and he is fine and confirms that none of what we were told were true." Vince frowns as he speaks, "I don't see the boy, where is he?" Glen smirks, "Seeing that all interested parties stick around."


	22. Facts and Fiction

**A/N: **_Ok finally struggled through this one. Life can be a you know what sometimes, and this past few weeks proves it in spades._

_I'm apologizing in advance for the shortness of the chapter and that it does not flow very well. Really was hard putting words down, but I could not take another week of not putting something up. I hope it does not incompletely bite._

_Once again I want to thank those that have read and those that have reviewed my work up to this point. Just seeing the hit count on my story kinda makes me smile, and I am very apprciative of the time ppl are taking to read what I have set before you all._

_I would like to take a quick sec to express my own appreciation for the writing skills and offerings of others who publish on this site, so bare with me if you will._

_The Vampire Lucinda, If you have not read _**To be Loved** _yet you need to. It's a great story with two of my favorite pairings_

_DariaM, _**This wasn't in the job description, **_is so involved and so intriguing I can't wait to read the next chapter. _

_Scorpina, without a doubt the most prolific humor writer on the site._

_Great Big Freak, _**Weird Texas**_ has to be my favorite x-over story of all times...(Oh yeah lady/dude lol whens the next chapter?? LOL)_

_and finally, the person with the story I love more then any other, due to the uniqueness of the writing style and story is Ashura77 _**In the Glimpse of an eyebeat**_ is an involving story of humor and angst that is such a joy to read._

_Those are just a few names of the many authors and their stories I love and that have made this site my place to go when the days get to wearing down on me. Please check them out, if you have not already done so, and if you like them, let these ladies/gents know. I am sure they would all appreciate it._

_Anyway enough of all the heavy stuff LOL_

_On with chapter 22!_

_Enjoy._

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The noise in the arena this evening is near deafening. The crowd alive with excitement as they watch Dave Batista run down the metal ramp and slid into the ring, currently the sight of a very one-sided donnybrook. Batista was there to save John Cena from the brutal beating he was receiving from Mark Henry, Umaga and Randy Orton. When the large Philippino hits the ring he proceeds to attack those around the prone form of Cena, allowing the stout young wrestlers to battle back to his feat with a show of astounding resilience. The fans go wild, watching two of the top faces in the company meet out some well deserved justice on the 3 villains of this evenings entertainment.

Behind the large light and screened edifice known as the Titantron, four men stood. They do not seem to share the excitement of the crowd mere yards away. They stand with hard glares on the small monitors set in the staging area in the back, used as cues for the wrestlers to know when they should proceed beyond the, relative, calm confines of their world into the glare and madness of the fan filled experience that is a wrestling show.

The four men, move from their vigil around the monitor when it is clear the 'heels' have had enough of being beaten by the two 'faces' and head back up the ramp, yelling and gesticulating expansively for the enjoyment of the thousands of faces around them. The two men in the ring yell incomprehensible threats back at the retreating trio, playing their part in making sure the fans around them are left with the feeling of having been entertained to their fullest extent. Few will leave this night feeling unsatisfied.

Satisfaction is also on the mind of the four men waiting behind the titantron. As the first two of the departing villains moves to the back, they smile and wave to the men as they spot them off to the side. Smiles that quickly fade as both become aware of Jeff's presence among the other wrestlers. Both men frown looking to each other a bit confused. A confusion that becomes more profound when the third member of their retreating band finally makes his way around the bend and out of the public eye.

Randy nearly bumps hard to the back of Henry, as his eyes take a bit to adjust to the diminished illumination in the back.

"Hey what's the hold up wide load?" he yells good-naturedly. Slapping the large black man on the back and proceeds to step around him, as he does so the smile that is plastered on his face, becomes frozen there, a bazaar caricature of a smile nothing more, as he comes face to face with the young Jeff Hardy. His mind flashes back to the last time he had seen either man and he feels his heart beating faster, as he remembers the other man being held by Dave while he laid fists into Jeff's brother. His mind screams at him to run while he can, his feet, on the other hand, seem paralyzed to the spot.

"Hey Randy beat on any Hardys recently?" With that the blond man draws back and slams a tightly gripped fist in the handsome face of Randy Orton. The attack happened so fast no one could react even if they had wanted to. Randy hit the ground hard, so taken by surprise by the right hook, while Jeff prepared himself to continue the, in his mind, much deserved thrashing. Lucky for Randy, the shock of Jeff's actions wore off fast for Bradshaw and he lunged forward grabbing the young man around his waste before more damage could be done to Randy, at least for now.

As Hardy begged and pleaded for Hawk to release him, the other individual they had been sent to detain made his way into the darkened recesses of the gorilla position. He, like Cena behind him, stopped stunned at the sight that greeted them.

"Hey guys what the fucks going on?" Cena pushed past Dave walking over to help Orton to his feet seeing no one else seemed inclined to assist the young man. "I'd love to know the answer to that myself." Shoots back Umaga, as he and Henry watch Bradshaw and Moore work at calming the enraged Hardy. Henry runs a hand over his tightly braided head frowning in confusion. "I thought Jeff and Matt got taken by Taker and Glen. What's he doing here?" Cena turns questioning eyes first to the man he had just helped to his feet and then to the one behind him. "You said that Taker and Glen forced Jeff and Matt to leave the hotel with them."

Dave shares a worried look with Orton that is not missed by the other men in the area. Orton realizes they have to say something in their defense or things could get worse for the two men. "Yeah that's what it looked like to us, even Shannon confirmed what we said. Right Shannon?" He looks to the short blond for confirmation but his jaw dropped at what he heard next.

"I lied. Taker told me to stay behind so I could find out who circulated the rumors bout him and Glen." Moore smirks, "When I heard your tale I had a choice, either expose the two of ya for the liars that you are, or go along with it when Vince asked me about what I knew." Shrugging slightly he adds, "I figured I had a better chance at finding out who let things out, if they thought I was on their side." The young man sneered at the duo, "You have no idea how much I wanted to let Vince know what pieces of shit the two of you were being." Looking back at his friend, who had finally calmed down with the help of Bradshaw, "Wish I had after hearing what Jeff said you two did to Matt and him."

Umaga steps up frowning down at Shannon, "What do you mean by that? These two did not try and save you from Taker and Glen?" The big Samoan nods cocks a thumb at Randy and Dave as he speaks frowning more as Jeff growls in respond to his query and shakes his head angrily as he eyes the two, increasingly, nervous men, "Those two fucking cowards out and out called Taker and Glen freaks then sucker punched Matt after Dave slammed me to the floor." Relating the incident only serves to ignite the young mans anger once more, as he lunges, once more, at the two men, who wisely back peddle away from him, both realizing their attempts to get back at the two large brothers by claiming they kidnapped the Hardys was coming back to bit them in the ass.

As the rest of the gathered wrestlers and some back stage crew, that had been drawn to the commotion, started to cast angered or growing disgusted looks in Batista and Orton's direction, the beleaguered duo knew they had to come up with something, or they might find life in the company, from here on out very very uncomfortable, that is if they retrained their jobs, if others realized they had tried to get Calaway and Jacobs fired.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Steps up Orton, a man well known for thinking on his feet, "We told you what happened, what's to say that Taker and Glen did not brain wish Jeff here and sent him back for some reason?" He notes how some start to frown in thought looking at a shocked Jeff Hardy, "We're telling you the truth, why would we lie? Think about it, why would the Hardys go with Taker and Glen when there was a show happening? They don't have anything to do with them normally." Orton has a hard time holding back the smirk that wants to spread triumphantly over his face as he can see most of the people gathered are buying what he is saying. Randy thinks to himself, "Now that everyone knows what kind of freaks those two are, who's to say what they won't do."

Dave Batista stands amazed at how easily Randy had been able to turn the crowd against the idea that he or Orton, would attack the two boys, and those that are not convinced completely are giving uncertain looks Jeff. "Brilliant Randy, just brilliant." Dave thinks silently to himself. All the boy has to do is continue to sew the seeds of doubt, and they till might get Taker and Glen fired. Just the thought of Taker and remember seeing Orton flying backwards off of Matt when no one had touched him, or the smell and feel of his feet smoking still gives him shivers. "Freaks like those two don't deserve to be around normal people." Thinks the big Phillipino.

At this point the only ones not looking with some uncertainty towards Jeff are Bradshaw, Holly and Shannon. Jeff, realizes he is stuck in a no win situation. No matter what he says in his defense can be counter by Orton as some kind of mystic brainwashing placed there by Taker or even Glen. It angers the young man that two good men like Glen and his brother could have people's perception of them be so radically changed so easily by the actions of just two closed minded morons.

Jeff turns pleading eyes to the other three men, hoping one of them might have an argument to counter what Randy is saying. He gets that from Shannon who seems to have taken it on himself to be the group spokesmen.

"Randy you're talking out your ass." Shannon moves closer to Orton and Dave pointing a deliberate finger at the two men, "Ah should kick both your assess for what you did to Matt and Jeff." The others standing about, return their gazes to the other two men, as more of the backstage contingent arrive interested in what could have caused the wrestlers to remain still in the staging area. "Why don't you two fuckers tell the truth, tell everyone how you ran up on Taker, Glen and muh friends, calling Taker and Glen freaks? Or that you sucker punched Matt and tossed Jeff around?"

Randy, desperate to keep opinion with him and Dave shoves Shannon back, "Look who's callen who a liar? You told everyone Taker did force them two jokers to go with him and brother, what you changing your mind now?" He smirks seeing a new angle emerge, "maybe Taker came back and brain-washed you into changing your story punk." Dave smirks to himself, seeing Orton thinking well on his feet, turning potential danger into a benefit for the both of them, he decides to add his two cents, just to cement the onlookers opinions in their favor.

"Hey guys, take a look at who is backing Jeff," he nods to Bradshaw and Holly, "Two of Taker's running buddies. How do we know that they aren't working for him, while he's gone?" He looks at the others his hands out in a pleading gesture, "You guys have got to believe us, me and Randy got all the respect in the world for Taker and Glen, we would never call em freaks, and we did not attack the Hardys."

The rest of the gathered crowd was now utterly confused and quiet uncertain who to believe and who not to. Moore made another attempt to get them to hear the truth, "I admit I lied about Taker and Glen forcing Matt and Jeff with them, and I staid cause I was the best candidate to stick around and find out who spilled the beans about them and find out who was trying to spread rumors of them taking over the back." He looks at the other wrestlers with his next words, noting that more have joined the crowd, feeling a bit unsure how this will all end, "You all know Taker, you all respect him, for what he's done, how he's been willin to help all us young guys out in the back." He smirks a bit with the next statement, "We all know he could be like some of the other vets and tease us with help and being buddy buddy and in the end what we think is a push is nothing more then those type of guys way of staying in the lime light." Moore tries to look each person in their eyes wanting, willing them to see the sincerity in his words, "Takers not like that, and neither is Glen, they would never have tried to use any power to get ahead, hell Taker would never need magic to get what he wanted if he wanted a place on top, Vince would give it to him in a heart beat, you all know this to be true."

Jeff much calmer now, is quick to note that Shannon's words are starting to sink in, but not completely and not will all those gathered around, the knowledge of the brothers abilities, he figures, is what is the holding back many of them from excepting what is being said to them by his friend. "Look guys," Jeff steps up to take over from Shannon, "If Taker wanted to use his powers to do any of the things Randy or Dave was saying wouldn't he be smart enough to use them on those two as well?" at that moment Jeff realizes what he has to say. He just hopes when all is said and done, Taker and Glen don't kill him for it. "You know what really is sad here guys, the thing that kind makes me really mad, is that none of you even trust Taker or Glen not to do any of the stuff you been told." He turns disgusted eyes to all those gathered. "Like Shan said, Taker would do anything to help us guys out, to get used to things around here, to better our game. He could just ignore us, do things they way they did them in the old school days." Some of the men, like Umaga and Finley, nod their heads in agreement. These men know what things were like for young up and coming wrestlers, Finley from first hand knowledge, and Umaga due to his family's long history in the business.

Jeff is no longer looking at the gathered crowd, so possessed by his thoughts and his words, words that he has longed to speak since he first heard about the rumors and the response from the boys. He can't ever shake from his memory of how the brothers took, finding out how everyone else reacted to finding out about their secret. He decides it's a memory he has to share.

"When I heard about the rumors going round, when Taker told us in the room, I was in shock. Matt was in shock and Shan here was in shock. But the thing that I will always remember will be how Glen took the news, the guy that was always friendly in the back to everyone. The guy that no one ever had a bad thing to say to, or about, when he heard who you guys felt about him…he…" Jeff swallows, trying to work past the remembered sight of the man, he now thought of as a close friend, curled up in a ball on the floor crying silently. Taking a deep breath the young Hardy looked up and stared at the gathered throng, "...Glen cried. He didn't break things. He didn't throw fireballs or go out to beat some sense into you guys, he just sat on the floor and cried." The last words were said in a low unbelieving whisper. No one spoke for a long time after that. If any even could bring themselves to look at any of his or her fellows, they would see many of them with lowered heads, shame and guilt weighting on them all.

"You know I was kinda on the fence with all this with Taker and Glen," says John Cena, the first willing to break the oppressive silence, "I had conflicting thoughts about knowing the stuff they revealed in the room last night." He shrugs a bit, "First if was kinda scary, and thinking here was stuff you read about in a Harry Potter book, staring me in the face. Next I'm filled with this wonder of wanting to see what Glen and Take could do, kinda feeling like a kid that just got told that Santa Clause really did exists." At this he gives a smile grin that others share in spite of themselves. "Then the devil steps in and I'm thinking what if they did decide to finally get their due in the company? Who would they help? Who wouldn't they? Where do I stand with them?" He frowns angered, "Now I feel like a complete jerk for even thinking that way. Take and Glen just wanted to live normal lives with no one knowing anything about what they could do or any of the other stuff." He suddenly turns his angry eyes on Dave and Randy, who step back suddenly as if physically struck by the young man. "I'm fucking pissed. Pissed at myself for letting you two assholes make me suspect, for even a second, that Taker or Glen would do anything against anyone in the back."

By now there is not a sole standing in the in this crowd of wrestlers, and crew that is giving Orton of Batista a pleased look. Between Jeff's emotional admission of the incident in the room with Glen, and John's impassioned admissions of his own thoughts, it had become very clear that everyone had been used and lied to, mainly by the two men presently looking desperately for an escape.

Alvin Burke, better known to the fans of wrestling as MVP, pushes his way forward, "I can't believe you two would do that. I never believed you and told you so to ya face," the anger in the man's voice is palpable, as everyone around is well aware how much work Glen put in working with the young grappler while they were doing their short feud. Most remember Alvin's was the few dissenting voice against the growing tide against the two brothers. "I've been around Glen to know he would never deliberately hurt another guy."

"Oh I'm not to sure about that Montel."

Everyone turns at the sound of the voice behind them. Most gasping as others take involuntary steps backwards, as they see standing before them, accompanied by a not very pleased Vince and Shane McMahon, as well as Shawn and Ron, one of the two men being discussed so passionately at the moment; Glen Jacobs his attention is on Randy Orton and Dave Batista, and the look in his eyes is enough to freeze the soul of any normal man or woman.

"I think I can find it in myself to deliberately hurt at least two guys, right here, right now."


	23. Interlude:Sanctioned Revenge

**Disclaimer: **_I don't wish I did_

**A/N: **_First up two apologizes. One for this taking so long to post and two for it being so short. Just another hard chapter I guess. I hope not to many are upset with the way this chapter ends. It was another case of ending it where it seemed natural to end it, even if it was short. Hopefull the next chapter will make up for it. I'll tell yo before hand it will be the hardest of all, do to what it intials. (You'll see what I mean when you get to the end of this chapter)_

_I want, as always, to thank all my readers, old and new, and all my reviewers, old and new._

_I also, want to repeat something I wanted to make clear before in past chapters, everything I write here is fantasy. Nothing I write here is true about anyone in this story. I do not know them, I only know of them and what we, as fans, are allowed to know. The things I express about the industry is only from my opinions, imagination and tons of coffee. Your own opinions might differ from my, your own outlooks might differ from mine and that is a wonderful thing...(Shut up Martha Stewart get the hell put of my head!! LOL)_

_Anyway, on with Chapter 23!_

_Enjoy._

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No one spoke; no one dared too. The look in the eyes of the man known as Glen Jacobs was more then enough to place caution in the hearts of all those gathered in the gorilla position. Dave Batista and Randy Orton, knew there was no talking their way out of receiving the wrath of the large man standing before them, and clearly no way of turning the opinion of the gathered workers in their favor again. Cena and Moore put that possibility out of reach. Not to mention the obvious fact that Vince and Shane's appearance along side Glen meant no one was about to say a word against him, even if they wanted to; they all knew their jobs stood on the brink at this very moment in time.

Randy who proved, once more, he was quicker to think on his feet then Dave as he hastily turned and ran back around the entrance to the ring area. He had no real plan; he just wanted to put as much distance between him and the enraged Glen. If he were lucky someone would come to their senses and confront the larger man before things got out of hand.

The truth of the matter Randy, now, greatly regretted listening and believing the word that was going around the back concerning Glen and Taker. Randy was a very ambitious young man and at the moment he was among the select few young wrestlers dominating the company in the public eye. He also knew that thought veterans like Taker and Shawn would willingly go along with the company's policies and directions, deep down they were not happy seeing how this effected the perception of the industry. Not just that, but it was no secret that Taker was not very fond of the attitude some of the younger guys exhibited in the back at times; Randy included. Not that Randy ever really worried about any of that. His place in the company was set and as long as he stayed in Paul's good graces, Taker could disapprove all he wanted.

But now Randy fears that his disregarding of Taker's opinion of him was shortsighted thinking to the extreme. He let himself forget that even thought Paul was married into the McMahon family and what he wanted for some guys would, pretty much, come to pass, Taker was still one of the longest employed wrestlers in the company, behind Shawn. Add to that his loyalty to Vince, back when all the other top talent had bailed on the company, gave Taker a lot of stroke with Vince and his family. Something the big man rarely used unless it was in the best interest for the product or wrestling. If Randy had kept that fact in mind when he first heard about Taker and Glen, he never would have fallen into sharing the mindset that the two brothers would now take advantage of their exposed powers and relationship to get ahead or push their own friends. Taker could have done that at anytime with or without powers and it was never in Glen's nature to promote himself over anyone else. A trait Orton looked at as a weakness and lowered the big man in Randy's estimation.

It took Dave a bit longer to realize he was no longer standing next to Randy, not till he turned to the younger man to get an idea what he would suggest to save them both from Glen's wrath or McMahon's ire. Seeing the young Orton was no longer besides him he turns some more just catching a glimpse of the young man as he turns the corner leading back to the ring. Dave showing he might not be the quickest wit but he was fast to catch on, took off after Randy, like the man preceding him, he had no real plan, save to put air between him and the enraged giant behind him.

With an annoyed growl Glen rolls his eyes as he makes his way after the two fleeing men. Funny thing was, Glen was not to sure what he will do when he catches up to Orton and Batista. As he stomps after the disappearing form of Dave he envisions the reaction of those gathered about if he were to use his powers, not that he would. Truth be told, he rarely displays his ability even around his brother, save on those odd times when the two of them are alone and away from prying eyes. Those times are few and far between. Even when they are out of sight in their own hotel rooms, the two have maintained the façade they were forced to erect around themselves.

How often, he things, would he and Mark, in the privacy of Mark's locker room, or in a shared hotel suite converse as friends, and not as brothers? It had become second nature to the two, and was only dispelled when a situation arose that made it impossible to pretend, or they, themselves, felt a need to admit their bond. The most telling thing, Glen noted, was that it was usually Mark that would let the mask fall first and speak and treat Glen as a family. Still it was Glen who secretly cherished those rare times when he and Mark accepted each other as siblings. This let him wondering to himself, "Am I really all that upset that the secrets out?" He can't get past the feeling he now has, the relief that he and Mark can now be brothers in the light and not restrict it to the shadows. Just the thought of being able to laugh with his brother around other people nearly makes the large man smile. To openly play the pranks he reserves for when they are alone would be so different, and allow him to share his amusement with others as Mark fumes or makes that scowling face he tends to send Glen, when the younger man one ups him.

But these thoughts are for a future time, when things in the company are settled down, and he and Mark are not the pawns of Paul or his friend. Right now, Glen has two assholes to deal with. And deal with them he will, he is just not sure how.

The two men in question have made it halfway down the ramp-way leading to the ring, which is currently in the process of being struck down by the ring crew, as Glen makes his way out into view. It isn't til Glen is halfway down the ramp that a new sound reaches him, or anyone else that is, so focused on the drama playing out in front of them. Everyone had lost track of time. Orton and Batista were to concerned with getting away from the enraged Glen; Glen was too zeroed in on catching the two men that had nearly gotten his brother and himself fired, while the mob trailing after them, was more interested in seeing how this all ends as opposed to their surroundings.

What all failed to realize was that the confrontation in the back, from Jeff's facing off against Dave and Randy, to Glen's ultimate arrival, had only taken ten minutes. Ten minutes can be a long time, in most situations, but when it comes to emptying out a large arena filled with excited wrestling fans, ten minutes was barely enough. When Randy had made his run down the ramp, only about a third of the of the night's attending audience had made it's way to the lobby below. Many were still jostling their way out the various doorways, others were still sitting waiting for the crowding to lessen for more easy of egress, and others, many children, were crowded around various locations at ring side, begging for autographs from the announcers like Tazz and Jerry Lawyler. So it was a shock and surprise when the lingering mass of humanity was greeted with the returned appearance of the night's performers.

A loud uproar filled the cavernous arena as heads turned, followed by bodies as people raced back to seats, it did not matter which, as all assumed an unannounced 'dark-match' was in the makings. The remaining announcers, who had not made a beeline for the back the second Cena and company had left the area, where taken off guard and quickly move to retake their place, highly perturbed that they were not informed of a follow up match to the main event. Their confusion increased as they spotted Glen as he made his way into view, flowed, a few seconds later, but nearly all the other wrestlers in the company, at least that were in at the arena for the evenings show. Lawlyer quickly places his headphones on, flipped the switch that would allow him to communicate with the back, he knew, once seeing the supposedly suspended Glen, that something was amiss.

"It's me Jerry, what in the hell so going on, Glen's out here, and it looks like he's chasing Dave and Randy…." Tazz and the newest announcer, Adamle, quickly follow Lawlyers lead, setting the large head phones about their heads, listening intently for instructions, or explanation. Meanwhile, Randy Orton has stopped dead in his track, as he finally takes note of the situation he finds himself in along with Dave. He quickly scans the faces of the fans settling in around the large arena, and finds himself at a loss for his next move, feeling he should kick himself for not looking before using this as his escape from Glen. Dave, for his part, races past Randy and slides into the ring, to the cheers of the still growing crowd. This was Dave's wake up call to the fact he and the others are not in an empty arena, but surrounded by fans that think this is part of the show. Now it was his turn to stand, lost as to what his next move should be.

Kane, luckily was only half way down the ramp when the noise of the crowd reached his ears, stopping he glanced at the sea of faces, wondering absently if this was some trap set for him, quickly banishing the thought, leaving him stuck on how to proceed. In all, a good three quarters of the WWE talent found themselves standing on the ramp in the ring, or outside of it, staring blankly about themselves at a mass of humanity knowing their next actions could have a very profound effect on them all; if they were not careful.

"THAT'S IT!"

Everyone turn at the booming voice that now filled the arena, spotting Vince, of all people with mic in hand. "Kane, I am sick and tired of your rampages and your psycho attitude." The crowd grows louder as Vince starts to walk closer to the top edge of the ramp way, the non-wrestlers of the group that had followed Glen out quickly moved to the back while attention was on Vince and Glen. It did not take the remaining talent to realize what the senor McMahon was doing, and readied them selves to follow his lead. Glen, too, saw this as Vince's attempt to cover up the mistakes of his men. Still he had no idea how he was going to cover up what had occurred short of giving the fans a match. Vince's next statement proves that to be exactly what he was planning.

"So you want to take your anger and frustration out on the other wrestlers? Can't stand the fact you and your brother no longer are the terror of the WWE?" Vince starts to get into his 'Mr. McMahon' persona, swaggering down the ramp as the rest of the wrestlers part way for him, also getting into the spirit, so to speak, as they start yelling taunts at Glen, and urging Vince on. "Well let's see if you still have that 'monster' in you." Vince gives the air quote sign when he says 'monster' drawing an audible growl from Glen, as he makes a halting move towards Vince, a move that causes the gathered wrestlers fully into the act, to move and block his patch to the older man.

Vince backs up the ramp once more, swagger in full effect as he continues to taunt Glen, "What's the matter ya big red retard? That is what we used to call you right?" Vince seems to get thoughtful as he glances out over the sea of faces, many trying to start up a chant of "Asshole" directed at Vince. "It's not nice calling the mentally handicapped that." This brings an even louder response from the fans and a roof rising chorus of boos, as Vince starts to strut back and forth at the top of the ramp, "Tell you what Kane, I'm feeling really generous tonight. I'm going to let you fight tonight." This brings up a huge cheer from the fans, even thought they had already assume this was the reason for the wrestlers to have come out, after the assumed end of the show. "It's gonna be you Kane going one on one, with the WWE Champion Randy Orton!" This announcement brings a new round of cheers and applauds, while Randy turns aghast, staring at Vince like he was insane.

To the fans this was just some scripted match, few in the stands believed that there was any real tension between the men in the ring, at least not between Glen and Orton. Orton, on the other hand, knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Vince was setting this up, to give Glen a chance to get his back at the Randy. Batista seeing his chance to escape, as Vince seems to be throwing Randy to the proverbial wolf, makes to leave the ring that is till Vince speaks up once more. "Oh, did I say 'one on one' sorry I misspoke. Just to make sure to give you a real challenge lets make it a handicap for the handicap, a two-on-one, you, Kane, will face Randy Orton _and_ BATISTA!" The fans leap to their feet cheering as they hear the name of one of the top fan favorites will be added to the match. Batista is less enthused by the announcement.

Glen, the only one in all this that does not have to act at this moment, turns a sadistic smile on the two men he is about to meet in the ring. He does not need Vince to tell him, he can't hurt them too bad, but accidents happen, and, he thinks to him self, "You'd be amazed at how much pain you can live through". Glen watches as Randy quickly rolls into the ring, moving to Dave as fast as he can. Glen does not waste anymore time, as he almost stalks to the ring, lifting himself onto the ring apron and stepping over the top room with ease. He knows the men before him are scared, they would be fools not to be, and Glen knows that will make them dangerous. Glen is a powerhouse, but his strength has its limits as well as his tolerance for pain. He can't give them an opening to do to him, what he plans to do to them.

Just as the ref, who had been called to the ring by Shane slides in and is about to give the timekeeper the signal to ring the bell; another voice blasts over the noise of the crowd.

"Just hold your horses!" Everyone turns as Jeff, breaks through the retreating wrestlers and makes a mad dash for the ring, sliding in on his belly, then popping to his feet in front of Glen. "Now as much as I like to watch a good fight, I hate being left out of one as well" He turns to the crowd as they roar their approval thinking this will be a great three on one match against Kane. "Seems to me the odds are a bit off, and seeing as Kane here is all alone with the Undertaker away, I think this gives me a chance to pay the Deadman back for a few years ago."

Most of the crowd are very confused by Jeff's words, some suspect what he is getting at, all is made clear by Jeff him self as he turns to Glen. "A few years back I was a bit unsure of where I stood in this company. Not really sure I was good enough to be here." He shrugs looking down a bit then out into the crowd, "Heck I was not even sure I wanted to be a wrestler." A low boo is heard, but silenced as the young man goes on, "So I decided, if I was gonna stay in this company I had to prove I belonged, and the best was to do that was to challenge the biggest dog in the yard." The fans cheer this time, as they all know who he is talking about and what occurred from that decision. "As ya'll know I got my ass kicked everyway to Sunday by the Deadman, back when he was human…" He is interrupted once more with a loud cheer and an 'Undertaker' chant, "At the end of it all, while I was clinging to the ropes listenin to his music play, telling me I still had not proved anything, at least that's what I thought, Taker came back into the ring and showed me, that I had proved something, something to Taker..." The crowd's reaction was almost deafening, as they now chanted Jeff's name. "…When Taker raised my hand.." he continued when he realized the crowd was not going to quiet down, "I knew I was in the right place, and I knew I was good enough." He now turns to Glen, putting passion into his eyes for Glen to see, for Glen to know that he is speaking from his heart and he was not acting, even if the fans did not know this, "And ever time I forgot that, ever time I slipped up, I would think back on that simple gesture from your brother and it helps me to continue with whatever I'm doing in my life. I owe your brother, and this is my chance to pay him back." He then smirks as he moves up to Glen and pats his huge arm, "besides I can't give up the chance to kick the crap out of Orton." This last part brings cheers and laughter from the throng of fans in attendance.

Glen, well aware he has to stay in character looks down on Jeff's hand on his arm till the boy pulls it away hastily. He then give his lopsided grin, shrugs and points to the corner. Jeff nods smiles and quickly takes his place on the ring apron. He then looks across the ring at the two men, arguing who will face Glen first. Jeff knows this is not an argument for the fans sake, neither man wants to be the first to face Glen, knowing he will be more then willing to exact some well deserved revenge on whoever he faces in the middle of the ring.

As Randy steps out of the ring on to apron, Jeff smirks to himself. He remembers the tales guys like Ron and Shawn would tell of the old days of wrestling, when the talent had a lot more say in who was allowed into the fraternity that was professional wrestling, and how they got inducted in. Even Taker would tell tales, when he was in the mood to share, of the pain and abuse the older wrestlers would mete out on to rookies just breaking in. the tactics kept a lot of men, not really made for the lifestyle from pursuing it very far, and left the ones that were made for it, very strong and very vindictive. Glen knew well of those days and those tactics, Randy knew only from tales from his father and his friends; Batista was completely clueless. But this night in front of thousands of wrestling fans, both men were going to see the old School brought back to World Wrestling Entertainment, courtesy of the Big Red Machine and the Charismatic Enigma.

Ding Ding


	24. Interlude End: Out of hand and Darkness

**Disclaimer: **_Figured I'd say this again, just incase someone is too stupid to get the messege already. (You know who I mean) Ani't mine, I just write about it._

**A/N: **_Finally I was able to finish this. I am really sorry it took as long as it did, but I have to be honest, I just could not find the words to make this chapter work. Ever time I sat down to get it done I was able to put 2 or 3 sentences together then nada. Just a blank, the whole thing just did not feel right. No idea why. But finally I was able to get something halfway decent (I hope) down and up to you wonder readers. I fear a lot of my readers are gonna be a bit disappointed in this one and I appologize in advance. With luck and no more blocks, the next chapter will make up for this one._

_Anyway, I want to, as always, thank my readers and reviewers, old and new, for taking the time to read my story, I feel really humbled by the hit count numbers and the reviews. That anyone would take the time to read my story is mindbogglingly to me, and that some of you even go so far to express yourselves with reviews just blows me away. I can't tell you how much both these things help to keep me going._

_Well enough of the gushing, on to Chapter 24!_

_Enjoy._

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As the bell rang Glen found himself standing mere feet away from the two mean that nearly meant the end of he and his brothers career. Two men, who allowed their own fears and selfish concerns to blind them to what they were doing, to the effect they would have on two men that had done nothing to deserve it. Randy Orton and Dave Batista created the situation they found themselves in, face to face with, Glen, one of the men they had wronged and all Glen could do is realize he no longer cared.

It shocked him, as he stared into the fearful eyes of Batista, that he no longer felt all that angry with him, or Orton for that matter. For it had finally sunk into his brain that his secret was out, and when all was said and done, his friends were still there to back him. He colleagues were not carrying troches ready to burn him in some tower somewhere, as his over active imagination had forced into his nightmares for years. It was true, their initial reaction was what he and his brother had always feared, but when things had a chance to settle down, when others stood up for the two brothers, it seemed that, for the most part, his fellow wrestlers really did not want to see either man go. It was a sobering situation Glen found himself in. He was a monster with friends.

Taking a glance back at Jeff, who was bouncing agitatedly on the ring apron, Glen was reminded there was more then his issues that were being handled in the ring this evening. These men had laid hands on Jeff and Matt in anger. They had tired to get Mark and him self fired. He might no longer be angry for the their part in Mark and Glen's near release, but he can not forgive their actions against the two Hardys. Turning once more back to gaze at Dave, Glen allows his lopsided grin to creep slowly across his face, relishing, in spite of him self, the sudden dread the large muscular man before him sends out.

It was then Glen decided to take a page out of his brother, dark and evil, book and play some mind games of his own. He walks back to his corner of the ring, where Jeff is anxiously waiting, his eyes showing puzzlement directed at the older man. "Hey kid, I'm letting you go first." He taps the bewildered young man on his shoulder then passes between the ring ropes to take his place in preparation for the match. "See if I start, there won't be much left for you."

Jeff grins wickedly as he bounces over the top rope to face his much larger opponent. He is not buying Glen's reason for letting him take on Batista first, but he is more then happy to oblige. He can still feel Dave's large fist entangled in his hair and the pain in his neck as Dave yanked him back, in their confrontation in the hotel lobby. The hurt is not, so much, physical, but emotional, he admits to himself. He is still stunned that either man could have said the words they spewed at Glen and Taker. Jeff was no babe in the world of Pro-Wrestling, he knew true friends were few and far between and animosity and jealous where the main thread that ran through the life of a wrestler, but still, there were a few men, that stood above petty jealousies. Taker and Glen were two of them. No one looked at Taker as a threat to their rise in the industry and Glen was well known for willingly laying down for most any young wrestler he was set to meet in the ring. In his heart of hearts Jeff still could not reconcile either man's actions or words.

Dave, seeing Jeff lost in his own thoughts, decided to take this as an opening; this match was more real then any match he has ever participated in and it was in his own best interest to get in the first blow.

He did this by rushing the unprepared Hardy, slamming his muscular arm full force into the boy's forehead. The blow brought a gasp from the crowd as many who were long time wrestling fans saw it for what it was, a 'stiff shot' that took Jeff completely off his feet. The less 'in the know' fans were amazed at how real the shot looked and started howling, some for Jeff, others for Batista. Dave, thought, had not thoughts for the fans right now, or whether they saw the move as real or not, what he realized was that Jeff was down and stunned by the shot, Dave quickly saw his chance to end the match, before Glen got into it, and rushed over to pin Jeff while he was still recovering from the blow. Mike Keoda, the ref sent in by Vince to 'officiate' the match quickly dropped down to count the pin. He was not pleased to be involved in this match, not at all. He was in the back and, like the other non-wrestlers, was less then happy to hear how Dave and Randy had treated Jeff and Matt, let alone the words they used against Taker and Glen. Mike was one of the few 'officials' left in the company from the days it was the World Wrestling Federation, and he knew both men well, the things he heard said of both men in the back sickened him greatly.

Still he had a job to do and, if nothing else, this would end this farce before anyone was really hurt. As his hand was coming down for the third slap he was shocked to see Dave rise off of the prone body of Jeff, glancing up he swallowed hard, as Dave was nearly dangling in the air, only the balls of his feet still making contact with the canvas, this feat achieved with the help of Glen who had his hand clamped securely on the back of the large muscular man's neck. Glen gives Randy a sharp look as the younger man made a move to enter the ring to assist his partner, seeing the looking Glen's eyes made the young man rethink his action; he decided it was best to leave Dave to extract himself then anger the Glen anymore then he already was.

Glen held Batista in that position till Jeff finally was able to regain his feet. "You ok?" he graced the younger man with a concerned look, and smiled when Jeff only nod then gave the held Dave a hard shot to the gut. Glen thought it best to release the gasping man at that time, smirking as he dropped to the matt holding his midsection. "Nice shot never thought you were a sucker-puncher". Jeff scowled at Glen, as he stepped back to allow Batista some time to regain his breath, "Hey he suckered me first, just given tit-for-tat."

With that exchange Glen moved back to his corner, stepping back over the ring, barely acknowledging the pleas of Mike, who had been yelling at him to do just that all this time. Glen knew Mike was not happy at the moment, he pretty much guessed why, and did not want to make this experience to hard on the veteran referee but had to maintain his character for the fans gathered to watch the match. Quickly his attention is drawn back to the center of the ring where Batista has finally regained his composure.

Jeff, thinking turn about is a fair play, takes a running start in the larger man's direction, clearly aiming at a spear maneuver that both Randy and Glen, find ludicrous, Dave's bulk and height and awareness of the sudden move, would preclude the impact of Jeff's smaller body from having any real effect on the large man. Such a move would normally rely on Dave's willingness to except the impact then make it look like it work, something he was not about to do.

What happened next took the three men by surprise. At the very last moment, Jeff, seeing Dave set his legs wide to receive the impact, drops and dives through the taller man's legs, allowing his momentum to carry him under and pass the stunned Dave. Just as he clears the older man, the young wrestler rolls to his back and plans both feet hard into Dave's rear, using the mat underneath him for leverage the move sends the big man lurching forward onto his belly, as his stance made him vulnerable to the reverse force from behind. Jeff knew not to waste time congratulating himself on a well thought out plan. He performed a kip-up and rushed over to the still downed giant, quickly stumping hard on each of the man's legs, making sure the impacts hurt, something more and more of the crowd were starting to realize.

Jeff sees a new opening and quickly grabs Dave's right foot, setting his own into the small of the larger man's back and using this as leverage as she begins to savagely twist the older man's foot around, the screams from Dave are very real and even make Glen winch a bit in sympathy for the man's pain.

Randy is now well aware that Glen is not their only concern in this battle, Jeff clearly wants to make both men pay for their attacks on him and his brother at the hotel. Not ready to find out if Jeff is willing to actually break Batista's ankle Randy jump over the rope and dashes at the unsuspecting Jeff, slamming a hard fist into the side of the young man's head. The blow forces the young Hardy to release his hold on Dave and fall to the side against the ropes. This allows Dave much needed respite from having his foot nearly torn off, while Randy tries to maintain his advantage on Jeff. Fortunately for Hardy, the ref was there to prevent Randy from taking that advantage forcing the irate young man to return to his corner.

Glen in spite of all that is going in can't help but find the whole scene surreal. Here was a ref well aware the nature of the _match_ he is officiating trying to enforce rules none of the combatants really care about. Glen and Jeff want to beat the holy hell out of Randy and Dave and they, in their turn, want to prevent that by doing the same to Glen and Jeff. "You couldn't write shit like this." He thinks to himself. He is drawn back from his musings as he feels a weak slap on his arm and looks down to see Jeff collapsed at his feet. "Sorry man, that shot rang my bell hard," The youngest Hardy looks apologetically up to his match partner. Glen just smirks as he pulls the younger man onto the apron to lay for a bit, quickly checking to make sure he is going to be ok, thinking maybe he would do best to end this match before this poor kid gets really hurt.

All thoughts for Jeff's well being is thrust from the older man's head as he feels himself slammed into and sent plunging off the apron in to the retaining wall that separates the audience from the ring proper. As he endures the fans yelling in his ear to _go get him_ and other inane comments, as well as their obligatory need to slap and touch his torso, Glen looks up to see Randy, who is it is clear was somehow tagged in by Batista while Glen was dealing with Jeff, drag Jeff's form back into the middle of the ring, where he proceeds to slam the already abused head of the young man into the mat with all his might.

"He's fucking trying to kill him." This is the only thought that fills the man known as the Big Red Machine's mind, before all thought stops. What happens next will leave the fans with nightmares for months to come, fans that thought they would see a great match and yet are witnesses to a moment of indescribable carnage,

They watch as Glen, moves out of the ringside fan's grasps, and slides into the ring, walking deliberately over to Orton and grabbing the back of the young mans neck once more, only this time he does not just dangle the boy in the air, with a guttural howl that sends shivers down the spines of all who hear it, he tosses the boy physically into the corner turnbuckle. The impact of which, must have been so hard many at ringside know they heard something crack in the boy's body. What happens next makes many of the gathered crowd with children quickly gather them up and rush from the arena, as Glen walks purposefully over to the now slumped body of Randy Orton, griping the unresponsive boy by the throat slamming him hard down on to the mat. At this point Mike, the Ref, abandons all thoughts of continuing this farce and slips through the ropes rushing to the back, where he will be seen emptying his lunch onto the floor.

Back in the ring Dave, seeing Glen deliver the choke slam to Randy, knows if he does nothing Glen will more then likely kill the boy right in the middle of the ring. Gathering himself to ignore the pain in his legs and foot, Batista passes through the ropes and rushes the insane giant about to deliver another damaging attack on the completely unconscious Orton. Dave slams into Glen's midsection forcing the enraged man to stumble back a bit, away from Orton, Dave is happy to note. What sends dread down the Pilipinos spine is the fact Glen was not knocked off his feet and was, in fact, clamping his hands down on each side of Dave's head, clearly taking a note from Kahli's book as Dave feels the large man applying unbelievable pressure on the sides of his head. It is not long before the fans hear Dave howling in pain, the sound making more and more of them rush to leave the arena.

It is beyond apparent that if nothing is done, Glen will crush the skull of Dave Batista, yet no one knows how to stop the blindly enraged man. Adding to the hesitation of all involved is the knowledge of Glen's powers. It was clear the man had yet to use them in this brutal attack, but just the chance of being torched by their fellow wrestler caused all to weight their chances close. All that is save one.

For Glen nothing had registered for the last few minutes. His mind was a single thought, and two emotions; protect those that depend on him, fear and rage. His mind was engulfed in flames, he was lost; he needed to find something, someone. Someone was in need of him and he yet he did not know where they were or how to protect them, and behind all these turmoil this mindless rage, this overwhelming fear there was a voice yelling. The voice was small, weak. A voice filled with a desperation to be heard. It yelled for him to do something; to stop something. And, as always, it was a voice that would go unheard.

Then the something pierced the haze of rage and fear in Glen's mind, with a start he awoke to himself crushing the cranium of Dave Batista, the light tough of a hand on his arm and the distressed pleas from that hand's owner.

"Glen please your killing him!" Jeff, who had awoken from Orton's vicious attack to see the young man laid out unconscious not far from him, and the screams from Dave as he writhed in the clutches of the enraged Glen. He assessed the situation quickly as he saw the mindless rage that seemed to be mirrored in the older man's eyes. Ignoring the pain that throbbed in his head and the queasiness of his belly, the young man crawled as fast as he could over to where Glen stood with Dave, calling to him as he made his pained journey, urging him to stop, to wake up. Making it to him in what seemed like an eternity the young man used the mammoth Glen's leg to pull himself to his knees, placing a hand on the muscular arm of the large man, begging him to listen and stop before he killed Batista. For a heart stopped moment the young man feared he would not get through, till, of a sudden the fire dimmed in Glen's eyes and he looked down startled, first at Dave, and then at Jeff himself.

For his part Jeff greeted the worried look of the big giant with a weak smile as he said, "Hey…wel…welcome back…. bi…bi...big…gu…." with that Jeff collapsed back to the mat. Glen's eyes went wide, "JEFF!" Dropping to his knees he cradled the young boy in his arms screaming his name and shaking him violently, Glen knew what was wrong and he was in a panic, he had to get the boy to wake up. "Jeff, wake up damn you, wake up!" Glen was getting more and more frantic as he looked up seeing no one was around, the crowed had long since departed driven away by Glen's rampage on Orton and Batista, and those who worked for Vince were to stunned or afraid to move.

Anger was starting to boil up in the, normally, gentle giant. Jeff had a concussion and it was imperative he got medical treatment. "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I NEED HELP, HE'S GOING TO DIE!" Whether it was the words of the soul deep anguish that surrounded it, something finally seeped into the minds of those standing about. They had three men lying in the middle of their ring and none of them was in good shape. A call was sent to the back for the medical team, which was always on standby during shows, and to call for 911.

As bodies started to stream out form the back in a rush, Glen continued to cradle Jeff's unmoving body in his arm, tears streaming down his face, as guilt laid claim to his heart, this was his fault. He could have called the match off. Or told Jeff to treat it like any normal match. He could have started the match first and ended it quickly, but he hand to have fun, he had to treat the whole thing like some kind of joke, and now three men were near death because of him.

The medical team made it to the ring in record time and started to work on Dave and Randy, but the two that went to help Jeff hesitated to approach as they watch Glen sobbing and whispering in to the unresponsive young wrestler he was sorry, over and over. The man and woman knew they had to get to Jeff and quickly, but fear held them back. Then someone pushed past them roughly dropping down besides Glen. The large man realized someone was near him and looked up into the warm brown eyes of Stephanie McMahon.

She laid a comforting hand on his arm, "Glen you have to let them help Jeff, please." Her voice was soft and encouraging, as she, herself, fought back the tears that wished to flow. She was well aware of the pain and guilt Glen must be feeling right now. "I promise he will be ok, you just have to let him get medical help." Glen nodded dumbly as he laid Jeff's body down and stood with the help of Stephanie, both backing away to give the medical team room to work.

They both stood in the ring, Stephanie maintaining a standing hand on the distraught man's arm, Glen staring mutely at the scene before him, watching as the medical team, as well as the newly arrived EMTs worked franticly to treat and secure the three wrestlers for transport to the nearest hospital. Stephanie looked up, catching a side view of Glen's face, the total lack of expression made her think of his brother and not in a good way. There were a few times she had caught such a blank look from Mark, those were times of emotional sorrows. Times like these would have most men on their knees bawling, but not Mark. Mark locked his emotions away behind the façade of his character; or what she once thought was his character. Now here was his brother, with that same blank look on his face. The crying long past, the tears dried. She knew she had to reach Glen, before it was too late.

"Glen, Glen listen to me, he's going to be ok. It's not your fault what happened. Dave and Randy went to far, we all saw and we all understand." She shakes his arm trying hard to gain his attention, sighing in relief when he turns his head to look down on her, the edges of his eyes once more showing signs of moisture. "How is it not my fault? I could have stopped this before it got to this." He's voice is low and weak, and so pained filled it brought tears to the eyes of the young woman before him, "It's everything I feared brought to life. I nearly killed Dave, I might have killed Randy, and look at Jeff…" the last was a strangled gasp as the large man fell to his knees wrapping his arms about the waist of Stephanie his head resting on her belly as he gave vent to his emotional pain.

Stephanie knew what to do at this point and that was nothing. Glen needed a shoulder, or in this case, a belly, to cry on, he needed to let his emotions run their course and no words would help at this point, so she just wrapped her arms about his broad shoulders and let him weep. Which he did till movement near them caught both their attention. It was one of the city's EMS workers. "Sorry man, but we are taking them to the hospital now, they are all stable, but they all need to get there now." He turns as his assistant walks over handing him a clipboard then walks away to supervise the moving of Jeff and Randy, a delicate operation due to their types of injuries, "We'll be taking them to Columbia St. Mary's, if someone wants to come they can meet us there to fill out the paperwork for them." The man steps back as Glen launches himself from the floor in, what looks like, a panic.

"I have to go with him!" The medical work looks confused, "Which him sir? Are you related, policy does not allo…"He is stopped by the look in Glen's eyes, "Fuck the policy I have to stay near Jeff." Glen looks down as Steph takes his hand, "Glen calm down we'll drive along side the ambulance, we won't be far." Glen is about to protest, he knows that it is Jeff who is keeping him from the effects of the Urn, if he gets to far away he will be forced to return to the mission Paul had set for him and Mark, but he remembers Mark saying that the Urn lost its hold when the Hardys arrived in the hotel, it then figures that if he stays close enough to Jeff he should be ok. Also he knows if he continues to protest it will delay Jeff getting treatment. He nods to the young woman and follows her quickly out of the ring, swallowing hard as he watches the medical teams roll his colleges out from ringside.

Stephanie finds she has to physically pull and drag Glen away to her car, as he seems dead set on being near the young Hardy. Finally getting him into the car she signals to her driver to follow the behind the ambulances as they make their way out of the arena underground. They disappear into the night behind flashing lights and piercing wails of men and women on a mission to save the lives of three men, leaving behind an arena of their friends and colleagues to wonder how things could have gotten to out of hand is such a short time.

Somewhere in a field of weeds abandoned cars the quiet is broken as howling wind picks up, the wind so strong it lifts and toss several of the gutted vehicles about like they were leaves in the wind. Slowly a spot in the air starts to darken, creating a blackness so intense it is visible beyond the nights own darkness. A sudden burst of light that would have blinded anyone who might have been around to witness it, lights the field then fads as if it never occurred, as does the wind and patch of darkness. Left behind stands 2 men. One is a near giant of a man, dressed in a long black leather cloak with purple colored fur trim along the edge of the hem and hood who's dark recesses prevents a good look at the face of the man within. The cloak is clasped about the man's form by a silver broach depicting a dragon in battle with a winged lion. The man's feet are in cased in, what looks to be, green hued, hard leather boots made in one piece. The tops of the boots, as well, are trimmed in the same purple fur. His slim legs sport leather pants of a dark black material that is neither leather nor any fabric that would be identifiable by any expert seamstress; these are neatly tucked into the boots. The giant's slim, yet muscular; torso is barely hidden by a soft leather vest, of the same green hue as the boots upon his feet. The vest is tied, loosely, in place by ragged strips of purple colored leather. The midsection of the vest is tightly bound while the upper chest area is open enough to showcase the hard muscles behind. The cloak hides most of the view of the man's arms but, with each movement, small glimpses of bright colored drawings along them can be made out.

His companion, a much smaller man, is dressed dramatically different. He wears no dark ominous cloak, but a short, blue, cape that stops mid back. On his feet are a, seemingly, soft set of slippers also of a blue coloring. White stockings with a gold sparkle to them rise from the slippers to past his knees where they disappear under a set of short pants, the bottoms of which are tied just below the knee. The pants are of the same blue, yet intricate designs are sewn into the fabric along the sides in the same gold thread that grace the stockings. His, slim torso, which is not as muscular as his friend's sports a simple white shirt with voluminous sleeves that tight off at the wrist. Over the shirt is a soft blue vest similar to his companions, on the breast of the vest is threaded, in gold, the same dragon-lion emblem as the broach that claps his fellow travelers cloak.

The two men hold large packs made of the same leather as their clothing, while the larger of the two grips an immense wooden staff, and the smaller man sports a large sword at his side. Slowly the smaller of the two walks a few feet way from where they arrived, he glances about, as his large friend stands stoically were he appeared. Suddenly the smaller man slams down his pack turns on his companion and screams.

"Damn it Mark! Can't you get your directions straight for once! We're in the wrong damn spot…AGAIN!"


	25. From Light to Darkness

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own anyone, and neither should Vince, but I have no power of that, sadly.

**A/N: **_Ok appology time._

_I am super sorry it has taken so long for me to get this last part of my story up. I had the mother of all blocks with this one. I just could not find the right way to frame the last part of this story. I mean honestly ya would think if I know how the story was to go, I would have no probs writing it out. But Noooooooo. lol_

_Anyway I finaly figure it out. It's not how I envisioned in my mind, but it seemed to work once it was down. I really hope ppl like it, at least those still reading this thing. LOL_

_I want to thank, as always, all those that have been reading this tale, and those that have chosen to give me feedback. Thank you thank you thank you._

_Just a note, there is some latin in this. I don't know latin, or its gramma so for those that do, sorry for botching the langauge._

_Now on to chapter 25!_

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"Damn it Mark! Can't you get your directions straight for once! We're in the wrong damn spot…AGAIN!"

It has been several minutes since the young man, few would recognize as Matt Hardy, spoke those words. In that time many more had followed, all at a very high decibel and all directed at his very large companion. Whom had yet to move an inch from the spot he had appeared, seemingly willing to allow his young travel partner to rant himself out, before responding. Secretly he was glad for the depth of the cloaks hood, as it hid the amused smirk that has settled nicely upon his visage. Finally Matt sat heavily on the burnt hood of an abandoned Corolla, his arms folded over his chest as his eyes bore into the larger man before him, as if he was going to rip words from him with the sheer force of his will.

"Ah good, I see your done," says the large man as he casts the hood of his cloak back, revealing the stark features of Mark Calaway, "I was wondering if you would suck up all the air from the area just so you can remind me I have a bad sense of direction." Tossing his pack near where Matt had slammed his down the elder man walks off a bit into the field of debris looking about, "Well we are not that far off, just about 6 miles I'd say." Eyes, that at times are a striking pale green, but at the moment sit somewhere between hazel and non-descript, roll as he hears the young man off to his right draw in breath, the prelude to another heated tirade. This was becoming a routine with the two of them. Mark would miss the area they were seeking and Matt would rant for about an hour about how bad his sense of direction was. Then they would head right back into the Darkside for another stab at getting it right. After the last try even Mark was getting ready to kick his own ass.

In all honestly, Mark knew that Matt was angrier that they had to leave the Darkside when they did this time. He could hear the worry and concern in the boy's voice and hear it in his thoughts. For the record, he too was less then happy about the timing of their departure, but there was nothing he could do; they had to leave when they had to leave. Syreeta and the others would have to hold on for now, he desperately hoped they could, till he and Matt could return to finish what they started there. "Look Matt I'm worried about them too, but there's nothing we can do about it now." He walks over and sits besides his young friend, "She's one smart kid and the rest know their stuff, we made sure of it, they can hold out till we get back." He stands and gives the boy a friendly shove that sends him off the car hood, "Besides whatya doinin mooning over my future queen?" He nearly laughs at the incredulous look the young Hardy shoots his way, till his eyes go wide as the young man launches from his sitting position on the ground where he landed directly at Mark's chest sending the two of them crashing to the ground.

"Future nuthin old man. Me and her are getting hitched," says Matt nicely perched on Mark's chest, "but you can marry Korgel, she's more your speed." Mark's mouth drops open in shock as he stutters out, "What the hells wrong with you boy, Korgels a damn dark dragon." Matt just smiles demonically as he leans down closer to Mark's face, "Yeah you two should hit it off great she's a big ancient dragon and you're a big ancient ass." The outraged look on Mark's face is more then Matt can take and he falls over laughing hysterically, a laugh soon joined by the hoarse laugher from his friend.

The laughter last for a few seconds before Matt sits forward bringing his feet under himself to gaze on Mark who is also gathering himself to a more comfortable position on the rubbish strewn ground. "Ya know Mark, I never thought I would meet anyone like her in my life." He sighs as he picks up a small jagged rock and sends it careening off the twisted metal door of a nearby refrigerator, "Ya know how it is being a wrestler and all, the kinda girls we meet or want to meet," he chuckles a bit as Mark smirks, "Yeah ok, it's not just the girls, we aren't known for being all that picky huh? Still, when I think about my relationship with Amy, and how that ended, then all the stuff that came after…" shaking his head and smiling ruefully, "Guess what I'm sayin is, its hard to believe I could find someone that good and strong and would put up with me, like she did." He looks back at Mark who's visage is as unreadable as it can ever get. He knows Mark's not the place to find answers of this nature, not now, so he quickly changes the subject.

"So 'Wrong-way Calaway' is it back to the Darkside or do we do it the way normal, mundane, humans do it and walk?" Mark smirks as he rises, holding out a hand to the younger man helping him up. He knows Matt changed the subject for his sake and he would not waste that altruistic gesture. "How about we walk. I think we both can do with some time away from the Darkside." He walks over grabbing his pack and tossing Matt his, "Besides, I don't think I can open the portal to the Darkside this close to my destination." At these words the younger man glances over to Mark as he grabs his pack slinging it over his shoulder, making sure to settle it in a comfortable spot; he had learned a pack could become a very big burden if you don't carry it right.

Looking at the man he has come to consider his closet friend and companion it took Matt no time to see a change in him; something was different. "Mark what's wrong?" Waking over he sets a hand on his large travel companion's arm, drawing Mark's eyes down to him, the look in them cause the young man to step back a few steps as a long forgotten dread of the man seizes him suddenly. Now he is certain there is something very very wrong. It's been nearly a year since he has been afraid of this man, he wonders what was it about that look that brought that back.

"Um…Mark, you going to tell me what's up, or do I have to guess?" Regardless of the cold feeling in the pit of his belly, Matt was not going to give in to, whatever it was that has him wanting to run as far from Mark as possible. This man has been there for him over and over, and he was not about to abandon him to a faceless fear, even if that faceless fear had a face. "Come on, stop with the look and tell me what's preventing us from taking another jump?" He leaves off the unsaid words 'besides your bad sense of direction'; he did not think right now was the time for that sort of humor.

The larger man, for his part, bites back the retort to those unsaid words, as he too agrees this was no time for humor. "Sorry, it's nothing, lets go we have a long walk." With that he also shoulders his pack and starts walking across the field, not looking back as he knows the Matt will follow, as he has for sometime.

"_Strange kid. Never thought I'd come to feel so comfortable around anyone outside of Glen," _Mark thinks as he threads his way around broken glass, busted and burnt automobiles, and various other caste off representation of human waste. _"Yeah there's Ron and the others, but I never, ever, felt this relaxed. It's like I've known this kid all my life." _He allows himself a slight glance to his left, not surprised to find Matt had already caught up to him. In that quick glance it hits the large man how relaxed and comfortable Matt is with him as well. _"Not long ago he'd be like all the other young guys, too nervous to talk to me directly, never look me in the eyes for long unless it's for some dumb ass segment. It's kinda nice to have a new friend someone I can be totally open and myself with." _Mark turns as if looking off into the distance to hide the pleased smile that he can't stop from appearing.

Matt absently wonders what Mark is looking at but shrugs to himself when Mark returns his attention on the path before them. "Hey Mark, you still have not told me what it is we are getting." Mark groans inwardly, as the kid asks this question on a regular bases, even thought Mark has made it clear, by not answering mind you, that it was not a subject he was prepared to indulge in. Still, they were getting close, he could feel it, it would be unfair to keep Matt in the dark any longer.

Spying a road not far off Mark veers their path in that direction, as he contemplates how best to answer Matt's question knowing no matter how he does it, Matt's not going to be happy. Sighing as they reach the road and he stop to get his bearings, he casts a look down at the young man before speaking. "I have no idea what it is I have to get," he said as he began to stride purposefully northward along the dirt road, "All I can feel is where its at. I'm not even sure what I have to do to gain it." He can hear the frustrated thoughts coming from his smaller companion. "Matt please, this is not easy on me either. I'd also prefer to be back in a WWE ring or, better yet, home with my wife and children alive."

He did not mean to say that. He stopped in his tracks unable to set foot in front of the other, as his words brought it all back to him once more. The loss, the pain, he feared if he moved right now, he would fall apart into a million pieces.

"Their gone, and I can't change that." The whispered words are nearly inaudible to the young man at his side, as Matt had moved closer to Mark seeing him stop, a mask of concern plaster over his face. This is not his first experience with Mark being overtaken by the realization of his loss, many a night he would sit as Mark would stop mid-sentence as something said or seen brought it all crashing back down on him. He learned quickly there were no words he could say to bring the large man out of his fugue; at least none Matt could come up with. This was where Glen would always be missed. He had a way of bringing Mark out of his thoughts, as Matt had witnessed a few times before the quartet had separated. It is these times he missed both Glen and Jeff. As close as he and Mark had become, due to their multiple trips into the Darkside, he was still an outsider to the pain that came with being Mark Calaway. So he knew all he could do was stand besides Mark as he stood staring off into the night, the same words whispered to himself over and over again. Providing a silent, but tangible, supporting presence for the big man.

An hour or so later, Mark and Matt were once more on their way. Matt had received the usually terse 'thank you' Mark would always award him after these episodes. The young man no longer expected more from his friend, it was hard enough on the man to admit he could lose control that way, another for him to have another witness it. The fact Matt would say nothing during or after the episodes on the subject, treating them as if they never happened, was the a clear sign the young man had come to understand Mark better then he had in the past.

Not that there were not more layers to the man. After the time he has had to spend with the man that once was a huge enigma to many of the boys, the young man knew that none of them knew the true depth of complexity that comprised the Deadman. Just the nickname he had cultivated early in his career said much about him, yet did not even touch on the elements that made that name so fitting. Matt even wondered, at times, what it was about him that even suggested to the older wrestlers of the past to even label Mark in that way. From the stories he had heard from guys that had known Mark early on, he was not really that reserved a person. Not like he became later, not like he was now. And he still was, somewhat, a mystery to the young man. One Matt hoped to one day solve.

For now that mystery had to wait in line for more important things, such as getting to their final destination and Mark fulfilling his assigned task; something Matt felt was fast approaching.

Mark would have confirmed Matt's suspicions. That is if he had the ability to do more then move, with increased haste, in the direction of his destination. At this point Mark could not hear Matt's thoughts, or his, increasingly, concerned voice. All that reached him was an insistent call. Not one of words, but one that seems to seep into his soul. It tugged at ever fiber of his being, nearly rendering the large man, nothing more then an ambulatory automaton. Mark could not turn from his current path, nor could he converse with his young companion, if for no other reason then to easy his concerns. At this point Mark barely retained any sense of who he was, where, or with whom he walked. None of that was important. What was important was the driving need to arrive at his destination.

Matt was starting to panic. He had never seen Mark like this, he was unresponsive even shoving the young man away when he tried to restrain or slow him down. Matt was growing hoarse yelling for Mark to slow down and talk to him. Something had a grip on his large friend and he could do noting to prevent this mad rush forward. Nor could he get Mark to speak to him, let him know what was happening. If this was the Bearer's compulsion, it meant that Mark told the truth and they were close to the end of their sojourn; or at least the first leg of it. Again Matt wished for the presence of his brother and Glen. With Mark in his current, unresponsive, condition he was not sure what he was expected to do, if there was anything at all.

"Ok Hardy, don't panic," Matt starts to talk to himself, he needed reassurance that he could handle what ever happens at the end of the road, if he did not get his nerves calm he knew he would bolt at the first chance. On the heel of that thought something else occurred to him and he suddenly laughs out loud, not worried it would draw Mark's attention. Here he was, afraid of what was to happened when Mark finally arrived where he was going, when for the last year or so, he had seen and done things no normal human being would have dreamed of. "Dragons, Dark Wizards and Elemental spirits. Swallowed whole, Turned into a dog-thing, and courted by a 10 foot hairball. And I am _now _scared?" he chuckles in spite of himself, "I survived the Darkside, I doubt I have to worry about anything my own realm can throw at me." He was quick to remind himself that Mark had said that what had to be done required only Mark, it was why they had let Glen and Jeff head back to the arena in the first place. This was all about Mark and whatever it was that Bearer wanted and only Mark could get.

Just thinking about Bearer brings a frown to the young wrestler's face. He always thought he was a fairly good judge of character. There have been rare times when his sense of a person fell through, Amy and Adam where one of those times, and, it seemed, Bearer was on that list as well. True he did not associate with that group often, but the few times when he did, or when he and Jeff had to face Glen in the ring, he was always impressed with Paul's professionalism. He seemed to be ready to talk to all the young rookies and talent. Giving advice, telling road stories making a lot of the new guys feel welcome in the locker room. It was, now, hard to visualize that man and reconcile that image with the one Mark and Glen told stories of; A man that blithely used two young boys for his own evil schemes and plans. At times, when Mark would speak of Bearer, he could hear the pain and bitterness his friend was feeling. Paul, had come back with Mark, when the big man was convinced to return to his earlier persona of the dark Undertaker. Mark had though Paul had put aside his manipulative ways. That he had changed and was willing to mend fences with both his charges. Something Glen fought tooth and nails against. It wasn't until the tragedy and theft and Bearer's willingness to help the two brothers that had convinced the big man that there was a chance that his father had truly turned away from his past ambitions and evil ways. So the betrayal, neither man saw coming, was like a hot iron poker to Mark's gut.

Matt knew Mark blamed himself for the situation his brother found himself in. Mark was the one that spend years trying to convince Glen that Paul was on the up and up. He was the one assured glen, against Glen's better judgment that his father had changed his ways and would help them find the stolen urn, discover why they were both doing destructive things, like the occurrence at the diner on their way to Bearer's house, and locate the person that had murdered Mark's family. It was Mark's need to reunite, what was left, of his family. To bring the only persons left in his lift from his childhood together, to assuage the guilt that was always just hovering on the edge of his thoughts, and emotions. And it was this selfishness, in Mark's mind, that had allowed Paul to lure the two brothers into the trap he had set for them. Well, as far as Matt was concerned, Paul Bearer was going to pay for all the hurt he had brought into the brothers lives. It was a pledge the elder Hardy would see come to pass.

But Bearer and his comeuppance was something for the future, for now, the young wrestler found himself standing in an open field. Nothing could be seen for miles save the tree line off in the distance that seemed to encircle the area. No lights from a house, or city, intruded on this, almost, haunting spot. His eyes seemed to be drawn to the sky above, where the heavens were a display of twinkling stars and a very bright and full moon, a moon that seemed to have settled directly above the long structure with in the field.

A stone archway.

A year ago, seeing a stone archway in the middle of nowhere with, what appears to be, a moon stopped dead in it's travels across the sky from night to day, would have freaked the young Hardy and had him running in the opposite direction. But that was a year ago, and he had done and seen things since that made this sight as normal, as a bird perched on a tree. So all the sight drew from the young man was a slight grunt.

"Ok, so I'm taking it, we are here." It was not a question, clearly, but a statement that lead to the unspoken question of 'what do we do now.' Matt did not expect an answer, so hearing Mark's voice following his statement nearly made the young man jump out of his skin.

Mark had moved closer to the archway, and had settled to one knee, as he has done many times in the past, while in the ring, giving homage to the Urn, or the gathered crowd. Only this time he did not raise one hand as he would in the past, this time he raised both hands, palms up, as if offering something to the archway. With head bowed Mark's voice fills the quiet of the lonely field.

"Tribus…ut ... Ego…Clavis…" his voice is low, and almost guttural to Matt's ears, he realizes this is the moment the past year had been leading up to. Whatever it was Mark was supposed to do for Bearer here, he was in the process of doing it.

"Ut…Mei…Animus…", the words are slow, and drawn out, spoken in a hushed chanting rhythm. As Matt stands back feeling useless at this point, he begins to feel a soft warm breeze flow over his body. The breeze, he realizes, seems to be flowing from the archway itself. The breeze brings with it a feeling that seems to reach to his very soul, a feeling of something ancient, and unfathomable. Of something he is not worthy to be in the presence of, something that is very displeased with his very existence.

"Concedo…Ego…Ut…Expesito…OSTIUN!" The last words Mark bellows as he throws back his head, the breeze now is a gale that drives Matt back several yards, having nothing to latch on to, the young wrestler is at the mercy of a force he has never experience in his young life. A sudden light beam burst from the space within the archway, bathing Mark completely. The light is so bright that Matt is force to turn away and shield his eyes or go blind, not that it matter, for Mark was so engulfed by the light he was no longer discernible as a separate object.

The winds and the light it seems to Matt, last for an eternity, but in truth, the whole event takes up but a span of 15 minutes. But it could have been a lifetime as far as the young man was concerned. He worried what was transpiring with Mark back near the archway, what was the light doing to him, was he still even alive.

Without warning, the wind is gone. Matt had become so accustomed to it that its absence nearly leaves him weak, and with a soul deep feeling of having touched something beyond his kin it was like being in the presence of god and then being thrust away, before really realizing where you where. The feeling is so overwhelming that the wrestler falls to his knees weeping uncontrollably. His mind is in turmoil, his emotions chaotic. If he could think he would know that he is on the brink of insanity and there is nothing to hold on to before he falls over the precipice that a waits.

It is just at the second where his mind is about to break, that everything quiets and a light shines bright in his mind driving the chaos and turmoil away. He knows, once more, who he is, where he is at and why. And he knows the light that has pulled him from the edge of insanity has a name. "Mark?"

"Yeah kid, it's me." Matt looks up, from the ground where he had been huddled in madness, to see his large friend standing over him. He is taken aback by the look in Mark's eyes, there is something there, behind the sharp intense gray-green orbs, something almost freighting. Even the large man's voice seems off to the ears of the young Hardy. There is an echo there of the wind and the light, that makes Matt's mind cringe from examining it. He glances as Mark holds out his hand to help Matt up, it takes several long intense seconds before the young man can bring himself to take the proffered hand and stand, and he quickly removes it once he is on his feet. Something he immediately regrets as he sees the flash of hurt in the older man's eyes. Which causes the young man to silently berate himself for his actions. For letting his fears override his innate knowledge that Mark is no danger to him.

"Sorry, just a little out of sorts. I didn…" he is cut off by Mark shaking his head. "Don't Matt. I can feel and hear. I know you don't mean to hurt my feelings," he smirks a bit, "I'm just glade I still have feelings to be hurt. Was afraid I would not be me after I did what I had to do here." He turns back to look where the Archway stands, or stood. Matt's gasps as she becomes aware that the area which just a few minutes ago, contained the stone archway, now is bare of any structure what so ever. Not even a bare patch gives evidence that anything once stood in that spot. It is at this point Matt comes to appreciate that something monumental was truly in the works. Something he and his brother were fully hip deep in.

Sighing finally coming to terms with the enormity of what Mark and Glen lived with, Matt carefully shoulders his pack once more, pats his large companion on the arm with a smirk. "So big guy, where to next?"

Mark follows Matt's example shouldering his pack and smiles down at his smaller companion. "Head back to Milwaukee." Matt frowns a bit, as he was not expecting to head back there any time soon. "Why are we headed back there? I though we'd be off to the next spot you had to find?"

Mark nods, as he sets out in the direction he hopes will lead to a road that will get them to the nearest town. "Yeah, well, I think I'm going to need some _fire_ power for the next leg of this, which means I will need Glen." The last part was not said without some amount of bitterness. Matt, who had caught up to Mark and his long strides, "I thought they would catch up with us, once they settled things with Vince." He made the statement with confidence till Mark turns to look down at him and he sees the hardness in Mark's eyes. "Something went wrong didn't it?" his words low with dread.

Mark nods slowly, "I think that would be an understatement." He closes his eyes for a second, then opening them revealing a far away look. "If we don't get there in time, neither of us will have a brother by the time all is said and done."

Columbia St. Mary, a very nice hospital with a competent staff. Tonight, in their intensive care unit, three men cling to life. In one of the rooms, a blond haired young man with hints of color throughout, rest in a dreamless state. He is unaware of his surroundings. He is unaware that the dark corners of his room are not unoccupied. He is unaware he is now in grave danger, not from his injuries, but from what waits in the dark.

In the waiting room of the hospital, a large man sits. He is alone now, all have left to return to the hotel, or move on down the road to the next venue. The man sitting knows, nor cares about any of that. He has said nothing since arriving and being lead to the waiting area. He does not know the condition of the two mean he nearly killed. He does not know the condition of the young man he feels responsible for. He does not know that at this moment, a darkness from his past is in the hospital and has nothing but evil and death on its mind.

He doesn't know, that he is the only one that can hope to stop the Darkness that, when done here, is set to cover the world.

There are so many things he doesn't know.

* * *

**Postscript: **_Well folks this is the end of book I._

_Book I you say? Yeah, while writing this it hit me, this just had to be separated into books. Sorry._

_Like I said from the top, this writing thing is not my fortay and might take a long time for me to get through. I hope some poeple are willing to stick with it. LOL_

_Tiil the next book starts I hope to get to read more great Taker fics from the rest of you writers._

_So Keep Um coming._


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